Up All Night
by Gilpin
Summary: Co authored with Mrs Tater. The night before Harry's hearing in OotP and, for Remus and Tonks, it really was asking for trouble to go out like this. Risky and unprofessional. In fact, anything might happen... COMPLETE
1. Prologue

**A/N: **This story is written jointly by me and **Mrs Tater**,who has posted it at her LJ should you prefer to read it there. Plaudits, brickbats or anything in-between should therefore be distributed evenly, please. It takes place on Wednesday, 11th August 1995, the night before Harry's hearing at the Ministry of Magic, and aims to provide an explanation for the behaviour of Remus and Tonks at breakfast the next day. It's the end of Chapter 6 and start of Chapter 7, OotP, but all you really need to know at this moment in time is that Tonks claims to have been "…Up all night."

**Disclaimer:** Neither of us is J K Rowling. Not even combined.

**Prologue**

**Don't Look a Gift Auror in the Mouth**

Remus Lupin hated to say no to friends at the best of times. He especially hated to say no to friends and fellow Order members, who didn't usually corner him in the hallway after a meeting and ask favours with faintly embarrassed expressions. But this was lousy timing, being only two days after a transformation which left him craving one of Molly's famous roast dinners, followed by a steaming hot bath, and a decent night's sleep. Preferably one that lasted forty-eight hours or more.

"I wouldn't ask," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, his gold earring glinting as it caught the light from the nearby gas lamp, "it's just that Scrimgeour's insisted I work late tonight without any warning whatsoever. And he's been a bit odd with me recently so the last thing I need is to say I can't do it."

Remus nodded and tried not to lean against one of Grimmauld's damp walls for various health and safety reasons. He was momentarily spared answering by having to move aside for other Order members, who filed past them on their way out. Bill Weasley gave them a slightly curious and cheery grin, Elphias Doge nodded briskly, and Dedalus Diggle shot past, saw them both at the last minute, and managed to neatly hook his violet top hat onto one of the shrivelled house elf heads on the wall as he turned to doff it in acknowledgement. He whipped it off and shook it with revulsion.

Kingsley half-smiled and shifted the large sheaf of parchment he was holding from one arm to another.

"What is that?" Remus, all too conscious that he was avoiding the issue in the vain hope Kingsley would get hit by a passing Memory Charm and instantly forget the entire conversation, thought he might as well be nosey while avoiding things.

"Oh, they've updated one of Mad-Eye's definitive Auror Guides and reprinted it." Kingsley grinned. "'Constant Vigil, Volume One.'"

Remus raised a questioning eyebrow. "Not 'Constant Vigilance?'"

"No, it's an abridged version. My bedtime reading for the next six weeks." Kingsley looked at him, a slight smile still playing round his lips. "Look Remus, I'm sorry I've got to ask, and I know exactly what you're thinking—"

He probably should apologise profusely if Kingsley really did know.

"—but I can't tell you how I was looking forward to this night duty and I'm a bit gutted, to tell you the truth, that I can't do it."

Not only could he sleep on his feet but it was Harry's hearing tomorrow, so he'd have to be up early to wish him well, and try and say something reassuring. And Sirius would probably be in an even worse state, being forced into his least favourite role – the one where he was required to sit, wait and make meaningless small talk while doing so. He'd be on the look out for any distraction going, and it would definitely be a good idea if Remus was the one to find it for him.

The obvious answer was to politely put a stop to this and suggest Arthur, who was always obliging, and therefore frequently put upon whenever favours were needed.

That thought made him feel even guiltier, so instead he said quickly, "You were actually looking _forward _to a night duty? What is it, guarding some stunning sorceress from the clutches of evil?"

"Not exactly." Kingsley rubbed his neck, before smoothing his hand over his bald head as though picking his words with care. "Emmeline and I were due to spend a night in Thurlestone in Devon, watching to see if a message is delivered to a suspected you-know-who sympathiser. It's only till midnight or so and then we'd get relieved by Mundungus. It's in one of his hidey holes actually, but he says it's a great place to hang out. Totally secluded and overlooking the beach, apparently. He says, and I quote, 'Thurlestone rocks, mate.' What do you think?"

Remus felt like issue dodging again. "Well I presume he's not commenting on its geological layout—"

Kingsley gave him a look.

In spite of himself, Remus grinned. "Do I translate that as he's found it's a quiet little place that doesn't ask too many questions about a sudden influx of cauldrons and suchlike?"

"You do." Kingsley's voice was rich with amusement. "But it does sound a real gem from what he described to me. The place is called Primrose Byre, and he says he got it off some gormless gargoyle who couldn't recognise a gold mine from a gnome hole. Which, apart from demonstrating an unexpected talent for alliteration when he's had a few, makes me think he's somehow got his hands on one of those Muggle barns that they do up and sell for a fortune. So what do you think?"

There was a pause. Remus felt he was missing something somewhere, apart from the fact that Kingsley kept asking him what he thought, and his one unshakeable conviction was how much he wanted to get out of this. It was just proving hard to put into words.

He rubbed his neck to see if it worked for him, but it didn't bring forth much in the way of enlightenment.

"It's a treat to get Devon," he said, uncertainly. "I haven't been there for ages."

"Exactly!" Kingsley's deep voice rose in agreement. "Exactly! It's so hard to get any time alone with anyone you might really like around here. Plus you usually end up down some filthy alleyway as you-know-who's pals don't choose the nicest haunts. And I actually get a duty in Thurlestone – which I flew past once and it _is _the prettiest little village, all white Muggle houses and a wonderful long beach – and then this happens."

Remus felt his sleep-deprived brain working very hard to catch up.

"You wanted to spend time alone with -" He stopped. Surely not. _He'd have noticed._

"You've probably noticed." Kingsley nodded, clearly appreciative of Remus's supposed powers of observation, and unaware that they appeared to be alarmingly on the wane. "Emmeline and I have got quite close these last few weeks."

"You're…erm?" He hesitated over the right choice of word, mainly because he strongly doubted the word had been invented yet, and he certainly wasn't volunteering to discover it.

Kingsley nodded again. "We're…erm." He appeared to be unable to find the right word either, and resorted to the neck rubbing again. It was so unlike his normally confident demeanour that Remus decided to ignore the health risk and lean against the wall. Some support was definitely needed to get his head round the idea of Kingsley and Emmeline coupled as names in the same sentence, let alone coupled as anything else, and the realisation that he'd completely failed to spot anything going on between them.

He didn't think he usually missed much. Unless it was Sirius being innocent and Peter spending twelve years as a rat.

Kingsley cleared his throat, and adopted a philosophical expression which Remus recognised as that of a single wizard of a certain age having a well-oiled late night conversation with Sirius, and reflecting on where he was. At the moment the answer was stood in the gloomiest hallway imaginable, but where was he on his life journey? Was he always fated to take it on his own? Was this whole conversation now going to take the familiar path of becoming a talk about past conquests and humiliations, interspersed with the occasional mention of sport and tasteless jokes, just to remind them that they were two blokes having a late night chat about women?

Kingsley, however, seemed to be attempting a radical interpretation of the usual text. Quidditch wasn't even getting a look in.

"It's early days for us, and frankly hopeless around here trying to find out if we could make a go of things. There's no such thing as privacy." He paused and appeared to shudder slightly. "That damn house elf gets everywhere."

Remus did the thoughtful nodding this time. He could certainly understand and relate to the lack of privacy complaint. It had been driving him mad for weeks now. How was he supposed to know if an intoxicating friendship, which included the jaw-dropping realisation that the young and gorgeous witch involved seemed to be equally interested in him, _could_ be something more? It was well nigh impossible for anything to happen when you lived in a house like a railway station and Sirius – understandably – craved company all the time?

"You don't have to say it," Kingsley gave him an embarrassed grin. "I know she's not my normal type."

Now that _was_ an understatement, even though he wasn't too sure what Kingsley's normal type was. It seemed a fairly safe bet it wasn't Emmeline, though. Remus was glad of the wall's solid, if mouldy, support. But then who was he to talk? He knew only too well what the world would think of his own unrealistic dreams. He hoped the world might be wrong. More importantly, he hoped the person at the centre of those dreams would think the world could hex its thoughts into oblivion, and sweep him along as well with the force of her fervour. But a large degree of empathy for Kingsley still didn't change the fact that another late and wearying night was the last thing he wanted at present.

"I am sorry," he began, smothering a yawn and any residual guilt. He also firmly quashed the part of his brain that insisted on wondering how Kinglsey would react if it was Remus shuffling his feet, not quite meeting his eyes, and admitting to trying to arrange a tête-á-tête in one of Grimmauld's closets.

Apparently while discovering a house elf lurking amongst the coats, broomsticks and dog baskets.

He cleared his throat and hoped his frowning forehead conveyed concern, rather than a boggling mind. By far the biggest boggle was how very much _he _wanted to be the one confessing. "I'm sure Arthur could go with Emmeline for you and –"

"Emmeline?" Kingsley shook his head, apparently in some surprise at Remus' obtuseness. "No, she's asked a friend to change too. There's another duty lined up at the end of the week and we're going to try and get that one together. Not a patch on Thurlestone, of course, so I'm sure Tonks will agree to change round."

Remus didn't move. "Tonks?" he asked, politely.

"Yeah, Emmeline's talking to her now. She said she was going to grab her after the meeting so I presume that's why they haven't come out of the kitchen yet." Kingsley peered at him, in the gloomy light. "Still, you do look tired, so if you're not up to it I could easily ask Arthur. I thought of you first as it occurred to me you'd like a decent duty for once, but I'm sure he'll do it. I don't think he's left yet either."

Remus took a moment to remember how he longed for that night of sleep. Some peace and time for more reflection as a single wizard of a certain age on the journey of life wouldn't go amiss either. It really was asking for trouble to go out like this. Risky and unprofessional. Even if all they had to do was sit in a secluded and beautiful Devonshire cottage, looking out to sea on a hot summer's evening. There'd be no kids, no Sirius, no Order members butting in, and certainly no damn house elf lurking in closets. There'd be just him and Tonks – with Tonks in full professional Auror mode – on the most straightforward of duties.

He straightened up from the wall and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He really wasn't quite as tired as he'd imagined. It must be the thought of all that sea air.

And the thought of him and Tonks. On their own. Together.

Anything might happen. Like a stroll on that apparently wonderful beach once the duty was done, where certain matters could get…_discussed._

"Remus?" Kingsley was looking at him, with some concern. "Hey, I didn't think with the moon having just – don't worry about it, mate. I just thought you don't get many golden opportunities or lucky breaks handed to you, and you'd appreciate it more than most."

Golden opportunities? Lucky breaks? He couldn't have put it better himself. Well he could, but that would be showing off unnecessarily.

"I'll go and grab Arthur before he goes." Kingsley threw a glance over his shoulder, just about to move away. "You should get some sleep. You know the Order always relies on you to hold your end up."

Remus smiled. That was certainly the plan. _Never _let the Order down.

"Don't bother Arthur," he said. "I'll do it."

**Don't Look a Gift Witch in the Mouth, Either.**

Nymphadora Tonks hated to say no to friends at the best of times. Especially friends and fellow Order members, who didn't usually corner her in the hallway after a meeting and ask favours with faintly embarrassed expressions. But this was lousy timing, being her first night off after two nights on-call for Scrimgeour, which had left her craving one of Molly's famous dinners – she didn't care what, so long as it was home-cooked instead of bloody takeaway, and she could sit down and eat it leisurely – followed by a steaming hot bath and a decent night's sleep. Ideally one that lasted forty-eight hours or more.

"I would not ask," said Emmeline Vance, her emerald green shawl rustling as she adjusted it around her erect shoulders. "It's just…" She cleared her throat, then went on in more dignified tones, "Frankly, Nymphadora, I quite anticipated my assignment tonight with some degree of…_expectation_, but now Rufus Scrimgeour has requested Kingsley complete a late shift tonight, and I would prefer to take another one myself."

Tonks nodded, stifling a yawn, thinking that if Kingsley was anything like as overworked as she was, he'd be fighting yawns, too, on a shift with staid Emmeline. Not that Tonks would be any more interesting, tired as _she_ was.

She was momentarily spared answering by one of Hestia Jones' shrill giggles pealing across the kitchen. It startled Tonks, and she dropped the gigantic sheaf of parchment she'd been shifting from arm to arm.

"Come along, Hestia," said Minerva McGonagall, with professor-like authority, motioning firmly for the pink-cheeked witch to mount the stairs in front of her. "I don't think we should be interrupting." She glanced towards Emmeline and Tonks, who had whipped out her wand and Summoned the parchment back at speed, in the vain hope that no one had noticed.

"I saw Kingsley with a similar parchment," Emmeline's sonorous tones redirected Tonks' thoughts. She was slightly distracted with wishing Emmeline would get hit by a passing Memory Charm and instantly forget their entire conversation prior to being interrupted, so that she could avoid the whole saying no thing. "Am I correct to presume it is for Auror eyes only?"

"Oh, they've updated one of Mad-Eye's old Auror Guides. It's my bedtime reading for the next month or so." Tonks thought it was more likely to be her lullaby, especially tonight. Resisting an eye-roll Emmeline would surely find unprofessional, she tried to give a smile that didn't look too sarcastic. "'Constant Vigil, Volume One.'"

Emmeline raised a questioning eyebrow. "Not 'An Auror's Guide to Vigilance Over Constant Relationships?'"

Tonks nearly dropped the parchment again, so off-balance did Emmeline's imperiously uttered joke put her. She did allow herself to let out a small puff of laughter. "No, he's forgotten that chapter in favour of the one entitled, 'Duty First, Social Life – Not On My Watch, Dear.'"

A slight smile playing round her pursed lips, Emmeline cleared her throat and said, "I do apologise for asking, Nymphadora. I know precisely what you must be thinking–"

She probably should be very embarrassed if Emmeline really did know.

"—but I cannot tell you how I was looking forward to this night duty, and I have found it somewhat upsetting, if you will indulge my melodramatics, to have to come to terms with the turn events have taken."

Not only could she sleep on her feet, but it was Harry's hearing tomorrow, and Tonks wanted to drop by Grimmauld Place before work to wish him well, and try and say something reassuring. She'd apologise and suggest Hestia, who was prim and proper like Emmeline, despite her giddy streak, and would be a perfect substitute for tonight's duty.

But, struck by how mean she was being in her current state of exhaustion, Tonks said instead, "You were actually looking _forward _to night duty? What was it, spying on those gorgeous Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest?"

Oh, God. Had she _really _just referred to Centaurs as gorgeous? In front of _Emmeline_?

At least Tonks didn't have to worry about fatigue sounding like a flimsy excuse for not swapping shifts.

"Not exactly." Instead of looking appalled at the smutty young Auror, Emmeline's lips seemed to form a hesitant smile, which was so unlike her normal regal expression that Tonks stared at her. "Kingsley and I were due to spend a night in Devon, where a message shall be delivered to a you-know-who sympathiser. At midnight we are to be relieved by Mundungus." The fine lines around her lips became a little more pronounced. "Our vantage point is one of Mundungus' haunts, as a matter of fact, but he assures me it is quite a picturesque locale, with the appropriate ambiance. Private and overlooking the shore. What is your opinion on that?"

She paused.

Tonks felt no real compulsion to keep to the point. "Well, I assume _picturesque locale _and _appropriate ambiance_ are a paraphrase?"

Emmeline gave her a look.

In spite of herself, Tonks grinned. "I take it Dung needed this privateplace to hide his stash of stolen goods from Aurors who _aren't _part of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Indeed." Emmeline's voice was thick with exasperation. "But reading between the lines, the place _does_ sound a really lovely weekend getaway for the discerning traveller. Full of character and rustic charm. It's called Primrose Byre, and I think – and Kingsley agrees – that he has somehow acquired one of those Muggle barns that they renovate to a high standard and sell for a substantial profit. What is your opinion on that?"

There was another pause. Tonks felt she was missing something somewhere, apart from the fact that Emmeline kept asking her opinion on things she'd no particular thoughts on either way.

"Devon's a treat," Tonks said, uncertainly. "I never get good assignments like that."

"Precisely." Emmeline's stately alto rose in agreement. "_Precisely_. As you know, Order Headquarters is hardly the place for becoming better acquainted with anyone you should wish to know on more…_intimate_…terms. And it seems as though you-know-who stipulates that his followers skulk in filthy alleyways and derelict buildings. It is unfortunately typical that I should have to trade away an assignment in Thurlestone – it is the quaintest village, with white Muggle cottages, and the loveliest beach."

Tonks' sleep-deprived brain worked very hard to catch up.

"You fancy -" She stopped. _No. She'd have cottoned on. _

"Surely you have noticed." Emmeline's cheeks flushed becomingly as she inclined her head towards Tonks. In hushed tones, she said, "A…_rapport_…has blossomed between Kingsley and me these last few weeks."

"You're…erm?" Tonks hesitated over the right choice of word, mainly because she strongly doubted there _was _such a word.

Emmeline nodded, once. "We are…_erm_." She appeared to be unable to find the right word either, and her colour deepened. It was so unlike her normally poised demeanour, that Tonks found herself clutching her sheaf of parchment as though it were some kind of life preserver in the midst of a sea of social awkwardness. Support was definitely needed to get her head round the idea of Kingsley and Emmeline partnered in more than a professional way, and the realisation that she'd completely failed to spot anything going on between them.

She didn't think she usually missed much. It was Stealth and Tracking she'd almost failed in Auror training, not Observing Unusual Romantic Inclinations In Colleagues.

The green taffeta rustled as Emmeline smoothed her shawl. "Romance is only just blossoming, and Grimmauld is simply not conducive to discovering whether anything can really bloom between us. The conditions are not right. For one thing, there is no such thing as privacy."

Tonks nodded. For weeks she'd feared she'd go nuts like the rest of her family, for slightly different reasons. How were you supposed to know if an amazing friendship, with lots of recent flirting, and the added bonus that she fancied the boxers off him – did he wear boxers? – could be anything more when the only time you saw each other was at Order meetings? Even though Tonks loitered about Grimmauld as often as she could, Sirius was generally about, not to mention all the kids …

"I know what you must be thinking." Emmeline's tight, self-conscious smile returned. "Kingsley and I are the most unlikely couple."

No. Snape and Sirius were more unlikely. Though Emmeline and Kingsley were certainly close behind. Mother of Merlin, how did a middle-aged witch who wore a _shawl _pull a hot bloke like Kingsley? At this rate, Snape wasmore likely to get a date before Tonks would.

And _she_ washed her hair.

Battling another yawn, Tonks shook herself. She was getting really morose here. Definitely way past bedtime. For reasons she didn't particularly want to analyse, the news of this unlikely romance simultaneously pleased and depressed her. Why was she having this conversation, anyway? She'd known straight away she was too tired to swap duty. If she'd told Emmeline, she wouldn't have been reminded of how pathetic her love life currently was, and seemingly always destined to be.

"Look," Tonks began, "I'm sure Hestia could go with Kingsley for you, and—"

"Kingsley?" Emmeline's brows knit as she shook her head. "No, he's asked a friend to change with him, too. We shall volunteer for another duty together." She sighed. "It will be an alley… But I'm sure Remus will agree to alter his arrangements."

Tonks' face felt rather like it had at puberty, when it had undergone frequent involuntary morphs. "Remus?"

"Yes. I saw Kingsley take him aside as they went upstairs." Emmeline peered at her, in the gloomy light. "Still, you do look tired, dear, so if you are not fit for it, I could easily ask Hestia. I thought of you first as you and Remus did so much of the planning for the Advance Guard and seemed to work so well together, but I am certain Hestia will do it. I think I hear her laughing upstairs."

As another yawn tempted her with thoughts of her cosy bed, Tonks took a moment to remember how she longed for that night of sleep. Though she and Remus _did _work well together, she'd thought so on more than one occasion, and it was good to know their colleagues thought so too. Molly had said as much to her only the other week, and she'd been secretly thrilled that it was so apparent.

But it really was asking for trouble to go out like this. Risky. Unprofessional. Even if all they had to do was sit in a secluded Devon cottage looking out to sea on a hot summer's evening. There'd be no Sirius, no kids, and no Order members butting in.

There would be just her and Remus -- and Remus in top form, pulling off complicated spells with that casual flick of the wand that never failed to impress -- on the most straightforward of duties.

She stifled another yawn and tucked her parchment under her arm. She really wasn't quite as tired as she'd imagined. It must be the thought of all that sea air.

And the thought of her and Remus. On their own. Together.

Anything might happen. Like a moonlight stroll on that apparently romantic beach once they were off duty, where certain matters could get…_talked_ about.

"Tonks?" Emmeline was looking at her, with some concern. "It was thoughtless of me to impose – Scrimgeour has been keeping you extra hours, too, hasn't he? Please, do not trouble yourself, dear. I just thought you don't get too many advantageous and fulfilling opportunities handed to you, and you would appreciate it more than most."

An advantageous opportunity? Fulfilling? Tonks couldn't have put it better herself. Though she could have put it a lot shorter.

"I shall go and catch Hestia before she leaves." Emmeline clutched her shawl and moved toward the stairs. "Do have a pleasant and invigorating evening, Nymphadora."

Tonks smiled. That was definitely the plan. Why, she felt positively vigorous already.

"Don't bother Hestia," she said. "I'll do it."

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**A/N: Thurlestone Village, Devon, does exist and its prettiness is not exaggerated. Please don't go looking for Primrose Byre though, as you need the appropriate password, and Mundungus is very nervous about strangers just turning up on his doorstep… But if you review, Remus might just work it out to take you on a guided tour. And you'll have your choice of well-prepared Remus, who finds out the password in advance, or show-off Remus, who prefers to figure it out for himself with those well known powers of observation. Or, if you fancy a girly chat instead, Tonks is available to talk about those sexy Centaurs …**


	2. The Best Laid Plans

**A/N: **Co written with Mrs Tater, who has also posted this at her LJ.

**Chapter 1. **

**The Best Laid Plans…**

Cheese and tomato sandwiches seemed like the answer to a lot of things at present. Unfortunately, keeping Sirius quiet was not amongst them.

"So," he said, musingly, tilting his wooden chair back at an acute angle and watching Remus and the sandwich making with interest, "I'm really not sure I'm following the plot here, you know. Some subtext would be nice or I'll have to invent my own."

"I've told you three times," Remus, having tried the normal places for cheese storage and come up empty-handed each time, paused to consider his next move. It certainly didn't include letting Sirius make anything up as that usually had horrific consequences. "Kingsley can't do the night duty with Emmeline so he asked me. I agreed. It's not that complicated, is it?"

"But you're knackered."

"I think the exact phrase I used this morning was: 'I'm fine.'"

"I can read between the lines, mate." Sirius shifted the chair from one leg to the other, with perfect balance. "But I've made my point so now you can feel free to ignore me as you always do at these times."

Remus picked up a tomato and narrowly managed to avoid yawning at the same time. It was such a hot night even the normally chilly interior of Grimmauld's kitchen was decidedly muggy. He could hear the children's voices echoing down the stairs, obviously eager for their dinner which had been delayed by the Order meeting. According to Sirius, they'd been remorselessly cheery all day, no doubt trying to raise Harry's spirits before tomorrow's trial.

At least Harry must be reassured to have people who cared about him, who treated him as family. You could cope with anything if you had that.

He saw Sirius staring upwards in the direction of the noise, and asked, "How is Harry?"

Sirius shrugged. "White-faced. Says he's fine. Seems to be a lot of that going around at the moment." He looked at Remus. "Of course, we could spare him some sleepless hours if we just told him what Dumbledore said last night. That he'll make sure things go the right way if Fudge starts playing silly buggers."

"You know why-"

"Yeah, yeah." Sirius's tone was irritable and the angle of the tilted chair was even more acute. "It's for his own good, blah, blah, blah. Funny how doing everything for his own good seems to mean telling him sod all about the stuff he really needs to know. You saw Dumbledore again today, didn't you?"

"Briefly, yes." Remus, who'd been out all day running errands he had no energy to run, concentrated for a moment on the tomatoes and waited for what was coming next.

"I don't suppose he's changed his mind about me going with Harry?" There was a flicker of hope in the voice.

The tomato slices had disintegrated into watery pieces which would have to be shovelled onto the bread. "Dumbledore will take care of it. You'll be waiting for him when he comes home. That's just as important."

"It should be me there-"

"Harry will understand why you can't go. He'll know you wanted to. That's what matters." Remus reached for the fruit basket and a change of subject. "Where are the satsumas?"

"Buckbeak's been eating them."

Remus stared. "He's a carnivore! Why are you giving him fruit?"

"He likes a dessert and I find it keeps him regular." Sirius frowned. "Let's just skip the problems that result from keeping a Hippogriff in an enclosed space with not enough exercise, shall we? Sacrificing the odd satsuma is a small price to pay, believe you me." He gestured at a large box on the end of the table. "Have a look in there. Molly's stocked us up with supplies from the shops and home. She also had a moan about clueless men eating all the cereal, and said we ought to try the puddings instead like decent human beings."

"I'd feel duly chastised if I thought she meant me." Remus looked in the box and found a fruit section containing bananas, apples and – glory be – a bag of satsumas. Or were they tangerines at this time of year? Mandarins? Whatever they were, they solved at least part of a picnic content predicament.

"She doesn't seem to have bought much this time." Sirius gave the box a disinterested glance. "Aren't there normally four or five of those?"

Remus thought the longer Sirius didn't realise the kids would soon be back at school, the better. Aloud, he said: "I think we've got a quite a lot of stuff anyway. Molly's a very kind lady."

"She is to some of us."

"Aren't you two getting on all right again now? I thought things were better."

"Yeah, great. I think we're bonding nicely in-between the glaring and the pained silences." Sirius waggled his black eyebrows suggestively. "Of course, I expect any pudding's been made especially with her favourite blue-eyed boy in mind."

"I think her thoughts were more on you, actually." Remus, having had a good rummage around, picked the whole box up carefully. "It's a Gooseberry Fool."

He unloaded it and everything else in the pantry; including the sherry trifle which had been placed at the bottom – Molly really did have her moments – several packets of chocolate biscuits, lemon curd tarts, and a large and delicious looking Victoria sponge. While he was in there, he had a look round again for the elusive cheese. Tonks knocked Cheddar back quicker than the average mouse, and she surely hadn't had time to eat as she'd come straight from work for the meeting. Eating something would hopefully buck him up as well.

There was some distinctly over-ripe Stilton and nothing else. He picked it up as smelly cheese seemed to be a slightly better option than no cheese at all.

"Where is Molly anyway?" he called, wondering if she'd moved it. The alternative was that Buckbeak had taken to having cheese and biscuits at the end of his gourmet meals. He and Sirius probably finished off with coffee, mints and a brandy liqueur, while other, less fortunate souls, were downstairs having a dish of corn flakes.

"She said she was going to iron Harry's clothes, but the last I saw she was bending Tonks's ear back about something." The reply floated back. It was followed by a pause which, unfortunately, didn't last. "That reminds me, what was Tonks saying to you in the hallway about getting ready and seeing you shortly? Ready for what?"

Remus briefly considered banging his head against the nearest wall. Of course, Old Extendable Ears Black would hear that, wouldn't he? Still the odds had been against him and Tonks getting away without anyone commenting; particularly as Tonks, who never took time to get ready for a duty, was taking an inordinate amount of time to get ready for this one. It was nearly seven now and everyone would soon be appearing for dinner if she didn't get a move on. She'd literally shot up the stairs, in the direction of the bathroom, at such a speed he'd wondered if everything was all right …

Merlin, he hoped she hadn't got Buckbeak's problem, because that would certainly set the night off on a bum note. So to speak.

"Moony? What you doing in there?"

Remus cursed himself for not replying immediately.

He stuck his head out and gave Old Extendable Ears a puzzled frown. 'I can't find that big block of cheese. And I was thinking about Kingsley and Emmeline."

Sirius snorted. "Kingsley's probably skiving off to avoid her. Wonder what they find to talk about on a patrol."

"Quite a lot it appears." Remus kept his voice casual. "Apparently they're a couple. I did have my suspicions, of course."

Sirius's mouth dropped open. The chair he was balancing on wobbled slightly.

"That's why I felt sorry for Kingsley," Remus continued blithely. "He was quite cut up about-"

"No!"

"He wanted to spend some time in Devon alone wit -"

"No!"

"But he's got to work and-"

"You're bloody kidding me!" Sirius looked at him in complete amazement. "Kingsley's knocking off Emmeline?"

Remus grinned. "I think that elusive word you're searching for is 'courting.' Bit shocked, are we?"

Sirius gave him a dazed look. "She must be a fair bit older than him."

"There's nothing wrong with age gaps. Makes it interesting." Remus hoped he hadn't come back too quickly with that one. He also hoped he wasn't kidding himself. "And Emmeline is very pleasant."

"Yeah, but I wouldn't want to-"

"For which I'm sure she's eternally grateful." Remus pretended to give the matter some thought, while still thinking about another. "I was a bit shocked myself to start with, but opposites attract and all that. Emmeline has got a surprisingly wry sense of humour, and she's always very nice and…stately."

Sirius gave him a grin, which could only be described as smarmy. "You would think that, wouldn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"She's not that far removed from a young Minerva, is she? I remember you at fifteen hot-footing it to Transfiguration at a million miles an hour. The rest of us couldn't keep up with you."

"Minerva was an excellent teacher and I always enjoyed her class." Remus firmly sent a fleeting image of his teenage self goggling at Professor McGonagall – it was those tartan plaids that always got him - to the outer most reaches of his mind. Hopefully it would get lost there in a passing black hole. "Anything else is a figment of your imagination."

"You were a figment then, were you? Sat there, saying: 'Please, Miss! Show us your cat, Miss!'"

"Getting back to the original topic of conversation, just for a minute," Remus said, coldly. Merlin, he wasn't going to be able to look Minerva in the face at the next meeting. "Do you think you can ever mix work and romance?"

Sirius pulled a face. "You tell me. You're the one who thinks she's stately." He frowned again and, propping his chin on one hand, assumed a knowledgeable, professor-like expression which, Remus had to admit, he'd certainly earned in this particular subject. "Of course, that type is often very different when the lights are out, and you'd probably see a completely new side to prim and proper Emmeline when that shawl comes off…"

His voice trailed away and his mouth remained slightly open, as though even he had trouble hearing what he'd just said.

Remus felt he was perfectly content with the one side of Emmeline he currently knew, and had no wish to form any four-sided squares in his mind. Or even a triangle. A sidestep seemed to be in order, so he said, "The point is, it's a real shame for them both."

"Too right it is. Romantic Thurlestone on a hot and steamy night." Sirius still had a look of wonder on his face as Remus went back to his bread cutting. "Mind you, it's good to know that even Emmeline is searching for that same meaningful, overnight relationship we all are." He rocked back and forth on his chair again. "What about you?"

Remus tried not to slice a couple of fingers off at the unexpected question. He could do this with a wand in a second, but then you ended up with precision cut slices and it was all very mechanical. He wanted to make an effort for Tonks, even if the result was uneven, blood spattered and resembled doorsteps.

"What about me?"

"Do you think that elusive soul mate will come along?"

The bread knife and Remus paused as one to consider this. He could see his reflection in the blade, looking back at him with an enigmatic and faintly quizzical expression. Weren't soul mates supposed to come along when you least expected them to? Of course, he didn't expect it at all because it always went wrong, but this thing with Tonks was giving him…What exactly? Hope? Tonks knew the worst about him to start with, that was certainly something new.

It also didn't appear to faze her in the slightest, which was not only new but unbelievable. Almost surreal. He felt he couldn't quite trust it sometimes, for that very reason. Other times he positively revelled in it.

Any previous relationships he'd had had always been doomed because they _didn't_ know, apart from the one girlfriend who'd found out by accident. The moral of that particular story being that you didn't turn up unannounced at your boyfriend's house on the night of a full moon, having been previously assured he was out of town, even if you did suspect him of seeing someone else. If you did, you were likely to be confronted with seeing said boyfriend stark naked in his cellar, apparently just about to chain himself to the wall, and with the odd set of handcuffs lying around as well. Remus always felt guilty about never even giving her the chance to yell at him, being far too concerned with making sure she got the hell out of there, and yelling at her instead like a demented …werewolf.

He sometimes wondered how much she'd wished afterwards that it had just been another girl.

The irony was he'd doomed the others himself by being conscious all the while that the issue was permanently there, hanging unspoken between them like a furry black cloud. You could only kid yourself for so long that you were doing things from the best of intentions, before you had to face the undeniable truth that your only intention was to continue being a coward and a liar.

But he'd never lied to Tonks. He never wanted to.

He realised Sirius was watching him closely, still waiting for an answer. The very fact that he'd casually asked a question about a romantic concept that he himself would scoff at and dismiss as "Bollocks!" if it was addressed to him, showed how interested he must be in Remus's thoughts on the matter. For that very reason, some kind of explanation seemed necessary.

"I don't expect it to happen," he said, "for obvious reasons. But as I haven't expected it not to happen for a long time, I'm wondering if I expect it _not _to not happen, will that then make it happen? Do you see what I mean?"

"Not in the slightest. I'll get the linguistic experts round later to examine whatever it was you just said." Sirius grinned, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. "I still say you're taking the art of being noble to ridiculous lengths here. And Emmeline's not going to be too thrilled, getting lumbered with you and your sandwiches, after looking forward to a night of passion in a love shack with Kingsley."

"Have you seen the Cheddar?"

"I think I ate it all. Does she know or are you springing it on her?"

"You ate it? There was a load here yesterday!"

"I was hungry in the night. I ate irregular food at irregular hours in Azkaban, don't forget. You certainly didn't leave scraps for anyone. Anyway I don't think you making her sandwiches is going to make up for not getting her hands on Kingsley's-"

"Emmeline's changed too." Remus steeled himself and readied the bread knife in case he needed to throw it. "With Tonks."

The chair thudded heavily back onto all four legs.

"You devious bastard," Sirius said admiringly.

Remus, very controlled, said, "There's nothing devious about it. Apparently Emmeline asked her to swap. I had nothing to do with it."

"Oh, I can believe that! The perfect opportunity just fell into those eagerly grasping hands, didn't it? Just a shame it was at this time of the month. Not that it's stopped you for a minute."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you don't! The fact that you two have been flirting for weeks in front of everyone is just a sheer coincidence."

"Again, I don't know what you mean." Remus felt a warm glow at the assurance Tonks had been flirting with him. So noticeably that people had indeed…noticed.

"No, you're just Mr Bloody Innocent in all this, as usual." Sirius was shaking his head in what Remus rather hoped was grudging awe. "So what's the beautiful maiden doing while lover-boy is making a romantic meal for two? Getting in the mood with those soppy love ballads Molly drives us nuts with? Having a scented bubble bath? Putting on her finest set of lace underwear?"

Remus gave him a severe look, and wondered exactly how much longer the beautiful maiden was planning on keeping lover-boy waiting, and having to put up with this. He'd only forgive her if she really was currently going through the underwear drawer. In the meantime, he was going to have to tell Sirius the facts of life. Or mislead him.

He took a breath. "We're on duty you idiot. A perfectly run-of-the-mill, rather boring, night duty. Tonks is a total professional and so am I. Get it into your thick head that work comes first with some of us and takes priority over everything else. We don't all go around obsessing on our-" He stopped as Sirius didn't seem to be paying much attention to his sanctimonious little speech. He was fighting a yawn himself. "What?"

"I've just remembered-" Sirius looked concerned. "Dinner. Molly wants to do a nice one to try and cheer Harry up. I said I'd check what we've got now with all the new supplies. What's in the pantry?"

Remus resisted the urge to tell him that perhaps everyone would enjoy a dish of cereal. "There are some chops or some chicken -"

The door opened without warning to cut him off mid-sentence and Tonks appeared in the doorway. He started to smile automatically at her, expecting her to stride into the kitchen in her normal breezy fashion, and say "Wotcher!" to the world in general. It took him a moment to realise that after hesitantly walking forward a couple of paces, she'd come to a silent halt. It took him another to work out that she was stood stock-still in a strangely self-conscious fashion.

Tonks wasn't normally a self-conscious person. You couldn't be when you could sport lime green hair and a pig's snout at the same time, and pull both off with style and humour.

His eyes decided to solve this mystery of their own accord and, without asking permission from his brain, began to examine the evidence put before them. The spikes of pink hair were certainly jaunty enough but his eyes pointed out, with a slight sense of shock, that instead of the expected bright t-shirt and slogan, they were viewing a black, bolero-style jacket. His brain briefly said _hold on a minute here, mate, _but his eyes were already focused on a creamy expanse of skin, and weren't at all inclined to leave that, even if he had just won the Daily Prophet Draw. There was also a little black top, which didn't quite reach her waist, and just seemed to be hanging around to show off more … expanse.

His brain decided to provide some useful details and additional commentary, and chipped in with: _Merlin, that's got to be one of those Witches' Wonder Bras. Bloody hell, mate. _Meanwhile, his eyes had continued to make their way unsteadily down a pair of pale blue jeans, and ended up disbelievingly and somewhat exultantly at open toed black sandals. They finally came to a slightly glazed rest on toe nails which were exactly the same pink as her hair.

He couldn't remember seeing her bare feet before. He'd stake his life on the fact he hadn't seen that top before. She must want to-

"Chops, you said?" Sirius's voice broke annoyingly into his increasingly smug thoughts. "Or there's chicken?"

"In the pantry." Remus gathered his wits. "There's some, erm, fillets."

"Really?" Sirius looked surprised. "I could have sworn they were breasts."

There was a pause, which Remus gradually realised the onus was definitely on him to fill. He was acutely aware of Sirius's amused eyes on him, his own on Tonks, and Tonks gazing at the apparently fascinating mid-point on the wall bisecting the two of them.

He had to say the right thing and stop behaving like the teenage idiot who'd once eyed up Minerva in her plaids. The first step was probably to stop brandishing the bread knife in an upright and possibly intimidating manner. He put it down hastily, and wondered why this was so difficult when he could usually do this sort of thing in his sleep.

"Nymphadora," he said, brightly. "Erm, Tonks."

"Remus." She scowled.

There was another pause.

"Sirius," said Sirius, helpfully. "And, oh look, here's Molly!"

The matriarch of the Weasley Family bustled in from behind Tonks. She glanced around the room, apparently noticed nothing unusual, and reached for her apron and organisational skills in one brisk movement.

"Really, Sirius," she said, in scolding tones, while picking up a huge bag of potatoes. "You haven't even put the cauldron on for me."

"Oh dear, silly old me in _my _silly old kitchen." Sirius's voice dripped with sarcasm, but then he smiled. "Sorry, Molly. We've all been admiring the tremendous effort Tonks has made for a perfectly run-of-the-mill, rather boring night duty. With Remus."

Molly looked at him, her brow wrinkling in puzzlement, and then she glanced at Tonks. A broad smile broke out on her plump face.

"Why Tonks, dear! Don't you look nice? Really lovely! Doesn't she, Remus?"

"Yes," Sirius grinned. "Doesn't she, Remus?"

Remus, observing the worsening scowl on Tonks' face and the slight reddening of her cheeks, suddenly wished they were on their own and the other two would vanish in a puff of smoke.

"Tonks always looks lovely," he said quietly, and was rewarded when the dark eyes looked swiftly up at him, searching his face with a kind of guarded anxiety.

It occurred to him that she was looking for reassurance he wasn't making fun of her; and he was touched to the core at the incongruity of the idea, while at the same time surprised how urgently he needed to convey that he was totally, utterly sincere. She studied his expression, a faint crease between her eyebrows as though she was working something out.

Her eyes widened perceptibly and then blinked. A half-smile formed on her lips. Whatever answer she'd got, she was pleased with it.

He felt a thrill go through him. He wanted to leave Grimmauld far behind, and go to a little white Muggle house in Devon right now with this glorious pink-haired witch, whose dark eyes were dancing at him from under her long black lashes.

Sirius, naturally, decided to ruin things by opening his mouth.

"So now we've got Moony in his best bib and tucker," he commentated in a tone of immensely irritating wonder, without bothering to mention that since Remus only had two summer shirts, the choice was hardly extensive. "And just why have you made such an effort, Tonks?" He smirked at her. "Because I know you're such a professional when it comes to work."

The face Remus was staring at froze into a glare which, in the fleeting glimpse he caught of it, seemed to be made up in equal parts of embarrassment, defiance and anger. She swung away from him and towards Sirius.

"For your information," she said, with a jab of her finger to emphasise her words, "this is purely a watch-and-observe duty. It _is _going to be boring. Run-of-the-mill. It's also scheduled to end at twelve when Mundungus relieves us. At which point, I intend to head for the excellent Innuendo Night Club, where I will drink too much, dance too much, and remain until chucking out time. I am, therefore, dressed for the occasion. Is that okay with you, _Sirius_?"

Sirius blinked. Molly, who'd been counting endless potatoes into the cauldron, glanced up in surprise, and decided that whatever was going on it was perfectly obvious whose fault it was.

Under the glare of disapproval from two females on opposite sides of the room, Sirius visibly wilted. "I was only messing around."

"Yeah, well, stop talking bollocks, or I'll hex you. You know you should never joke about an Auror and her duty." Tonks attempted to sound light-hearted, but it seemed a distinct effort.

She glanced in Remus's direction, without really looking at him. "You ready to go yet? We're going to be late."

All things considered - and one of them being the fact he was currently kicking himself for being a conceited ass - Remus thought that was a bit rich. He cut far too big a piece of Stilton, which was hardly the ideal sandwich cheese anyway but appeared to be the only option available, and plonked it on a slice of bread. He added the worst of the tomato bits and slapped another slice on top. The whole thing oozed messily. She'd have fun eating that and then trying to dance for hours.

"I've been ready for quite a while, actually," he said. "Have you got Mad-Eye's Invisibility Cloak? It won't be dark for a bit so we can't just Apparate in as we might frighten some sun-bathing Muggles."

She nodded, looking rather subdued.

"What about dinner?" said Molly, looking at them both in concern, and then fixing her gaze on Remus. "I'm going to do some chops, if there are any, with veg and new potatoes – your favourite. Haven't you got time-?"

"Not to worry, Molly." Remus smiled at her, and moved slightly so that he didn't have to look at Sirius blowing a kiss and making hair ruffling motions in their direction in the background. "We've got to get going and we'll be fine. Tell Harry I'll see him in the morning," he added, in Sirius's general direction, and started to put the sandwiches in a rucksack.

"Yeah, me too." Tonks raised her head quickly at his words. "I want to wish him luck, and tell him everything will be okay."

"Going to be in a fit state after your evening's entertainment?" Sirius, whose face had clouded over at the mention of Harry, with all signs of previous good humour vanishing instantly, raised his eyebrows. "It'll be an early morning start."

"I'm sure I won't do anything you wouldn't. On or off duty." Tonks gave him a mocking but slightly friendlier look. "And my partner can always be relied upon to behave himself and not lead me astray. We'll both be here, bright and early, after a boring night duty. Won't we?"

Remus carefully avoided Sirius's eyes. The thought of trying to lead Tonks astray was an almost irresistible challenge, especially after she'd just made him sound pretty boring himself. Which, he'd be the first to admit, he was nowadays, but she'd never given the impression that she found him so. There had been that look she'd given him where she'd smiled with her eyes as well as her lips, before Sirius had butted in. Perhaps she was trying to deliberately mislead Sirius? Perhaps she could be talked out of her trip to the night club? Perhaps he might even…

"Remus?" Tonks looked at him for confirmation. "We'll be here, won't we?"

He smiled. "Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," he agreed politely.

Sirius snorted.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thurlestone Beach was beautiful. There really was no other word. Remus would have been tempted to think he was dreaming if it wasn't for the pink-haired witch who was stood next to him on the grassy ridge, watching the same idyllic view with shining eyes.

"Rolling green pastures, winding cliff paths, and miles and miles of golden sand," she breathed near his ear. "What do you think, Remus?"

He'd never noticed the faint freckles across the bridge of her nose before. But then he'd never stood in the closest of close proximity with her under the silvery folds of the Invisibility Cloak before, either.

"That you've turned into Sales Witch of the Year at the Magical Travel Agency." He grinned at her, thinking that sharing with Mad-Eye certainly never had this effect. "Don't worry – you've sold it to me."

"I've sold it to myself," she said, dreamily, watching the Muggle families on the beach. They were mostly starting to pack their belongings away, but children were still paddling in the shallows as seabirds circled lazily overhead. "I want one of those little white houses! Trust Dung to have a pad down here! I'm going to have to switch to being a cauldron thief myself; the jammy bugger must be rolling in it!"

Remus laughed. He could tell she wanted to stroll barefoot down that beach nearly as much as he did. It had been years since he'd done anything like that.

"Which one's ours?" she asked, by his shoulder, looking towards the village, which was glistening under the rays of the evening sun. "Ooh, if it's one of the ones with the balconies looking out to sea, I may have to consider seducing Dung. It'd be just about worth it, provided I was unconscious throughout, and he signed the property over to me beforehand. Then I'd have to have a quick word with a gullible Hit Wizard."

Remus narrowly resisted at least ten possible answers to that one, mainly because the directions provided by Kingsley were confusing, to say the least. They seemed to lead away from the actual village, towards nothing in particular, apart from a wide green space.

He turned around to try and get his bearings, which meant Tonks and the Cloak had to come with him.

"What you doing?" she said. "It must be the other way."

He wasn't sure. _Two hundred and seventeen paces east…_ There was nothing in front of him but one of those rolling green pastures that stretched as far as the eye could see. He turned again.

"Hey!" said Tonks. "I'm getting dizzy here." She clutched at his arm, just as he was hesitating about putting his hand in the small of her back, and he steered them both round another ninety degree turn.

"Remind me never to share a broomstick with you," Tonks grumbled, as the watery-like material of the Cloak settled elegantly round them again. "Bloody male drivers. Where exactly are we going?"

"Up this hill." Remus, having eliminated any other feasible options, set off. There'd been faint, nagging doubts before, which he'd put down to being tired and cynical, but now he felt the first real prickle of trepidation. He tried to squash it. Just because something sounded too good to be true, didn't necessarily mean it was.

"But there's nothing here!"

"There's that." Remus pointed at a brown speck in the distance. It looked remarkably like a small barn. Or a shed. Or a possible disaster.

The squashing wasn't going well. Probably stamping was going to be required; and thinking about the beautiful girl walking next to him, brushing lightly against him now and then as she moved.

Tonks was peering ahead, with her eyes screwed up. "Of course," she said, thoughtfully, "I'm being a fool, aren't I, expecting one of those little white houses? That's one extremely impressive security effect. Someone who certainly knows what they're doing has initially Transfigured that building, combined it with a very sophisticated Switching Spell, and then placed a Muggle-Repelling Charm on it, along with an Imperturbable. It's a perfect mirage for anyone who happens to look at it, not even worthy of a second glance, but I bet you a few Galleons it's totally different inside. Obviously there'll be Secrecy Sensors positioned all around it and…am I boring you?" She peered at him anxiously.

"No, far from it." He smiled to himself. "You talk shop all you want. You forgot to mention an Unplottable Charm, by the way."

She gave him a swift sideways look, the dark eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You're not at all attractive when you're smug."

He glanced quickly back. "So am I to infer that if I'm _not _smug…?"

"Don't infer - it leads to misunderstandings. Talking of which," she cleared her throat slightly, "I, erm, lost my rag with Sirius a bit back there."

"He was trying to wind you up." He cleared his throat too. "Do you go to that night club often?"

"What?" She tripped slightly over a clump of grass. "Oh, damn. Hang on a minute." She waved her wand at her sandals and transformed them into a pair of battered black trainers. "I wish you'd warn me in advance when you plan these cross-country jaunts."

"I wish I'd warned myself." Remus swerved round something which made him suspect this was normally home to a herd of cows. In the distance were some black and white blobs that, presumably, were the culprits. "Watch where you're putting your feet."

"Yeah, you're telling me." She tugged at her top as though something was irritating her, and stepped over another heap. "Wonder what our chances are of getting through this lot unscathed?"

"I'd say about fifty-fifty, depending on how good our reactions are. I'm not working out what those twenty or so cows up ahead in a, roughly, ten acre field, can produce for us to dodge. Don't let me stop you having a go to impress me though."

"Ooh, statistics!" Tonks grinned. "If you're the unfortunate Auror consigned to desk duty, you end up compiling them for hours on end as no one ever wants to do it, and always leaves them for the next poor sod. Scrimgeour's gone mad keen all of a sudden on seeing if we're achieving our departmental targets. Know any good statistician jokes?"

"Are there any?" Remus raised an amused eyebrow at her.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Statisticians do it with ninety-five per cent confidence?"

He laughed. "I thought they'd do it when it counts."

"No, they just _probably_ do it." She laughed back at him. "I came to the conclusion that statistics mean never having to-"

"-say you're certain." They said it together, in perfect unison, and then laughed again. Remus met her eyes, felt the tell-tale squelch as the corner of his shoe caught something, and didn't care in the slightest.

Tonks was still grinning widely. "So come on! Tell me what you thought when Kingsley told you about him and Emmeline."

_You must be bloody joking_, was the honest answer, but Remus was far from sure honesty was the best policy here. He could see a possible hole of indeterminable depth opening up in front of him. This could lead to discussions about unlikely pairings. Age gaps. Professional relationships being ruined. Age gaps. Being told in no uncertain terms this was something she'd never consider doing. Not to mention age gaps.

"Well I didn't see it coming," he said, carefully, "but they make an interesting couple. How about you?"

"Merlin, no. Could have knocked me over with one of Molly's fairy cakes." Tonks pulled a face, which made Remus try and guess whether it expressed disgust, amusement or both. None of the guesses were particularly reassuring.

"I suppose I should have known when he was going on about her shawl at work one day and said it reminded him of his Gran." Tonks suddenly snorted. "Why do people always try and hide these things when they fancy each other? Why not come right out and say it? He's such an actor. I just never thought a hot guy like him would be into the whole dominatrix thing."

Remus thought rather sourly that there would be no need for men to hide their feelings if women would only make it clear how they felt. Under other circumstances he'd be sympathising with Kingsley and his predicament, but a more mind-boggling thought was taking precedence.

"You, erm, think Emmeline…?"

"Oh, yeah." Tonks nodded authoritatively, and the Cloak shimmered around her in apparent agreement. "You should have seen the smug little smile she gave me when she was talking about him. Apparently they have such a '_rapport_.' I nearly choked! He's obviously well and truly under the thumb. And he's such a big, macho guy! I always think it's the quiet little ones who like that sort of thing."

A vision of Emmeline, in thigh-length black boots and brandishing a long, curling whip, briefly appeared in Remus's mind, but was instantly banished when he realised that pinned to her shoulders by a discreet cameo brooch was the ubiquitous emerald green shawl. It really was the stuff of nightmares.

Unfortunately it was replaced by an equally dubious thought. The sudden realisation that all of Peter's girlfriends at Hogwarts – 'all' meaning the one and a half which had qualified beyond any reasonable doubt – had, indeed, been the downright dominating type. It hadn't been pretty to observe, even from a safe distance, but Peter had been devastated on each occasion when he was chucked in the same rather casual and brutal manner he'd been treated throughout.

Sirius had said it was sickening. Remus had thought it was scary. James had talked about Lily.

Remus pushed his hair out of his eyes. He really didn't want to think about Peter, either. Unfortunately, that brought him back to the original train of thought and Kingsley, who appeared to have derailed both himself and Emmeline in everyone's eyes. Once he'd been hot and macho, but now he was a figure of fun for daring to do something unexpected and unconventional. Perhaps even a figure of pity.

_Or, far worse, had he made her one?_

"Of course," said Tonks, in a light-hearted manner, as though she might burst out laughing at any moment. "She's a lot older than him as well." A wide, wicked grin appeared on her face. "Still they say a witch is only as young as the wizard she feels, don't they?"

"You know there's so much against them I don't know why they're even bothering," said Remus briskly. "Unless it's purely for our entertainment, of course. They should just give up right now. Forty-eight paces north-east."

"What?" Tonks's head swung round to look at him.

"Forty-eight paces north-east. We've done the two hundred and seventeen." He waved the bit of parchment at her because at least_ he_ was concentrating on the matter in hand. "We're definitely going to that barn by the way. There's nothing else."

He turned, so abruptly that the cloak billowed out behind him and she had to half-run a couple of paces to keep up with his longer strides.

"Remus-"

It was stifling under the cloak. Absolutely melting. The intimacy that he'd been enjoying so much had given way to a feeling that there was nowhere to hide his thoughts from her. He was dripping with sweat, his legs ached and he was older than Kingsley. In fact, he should be the one dating Emmeline, except she'd have too much sense to even consider someone like him in the first place.

"Remus!" Tonks grabbed his arm, which sent a frisson of both pleasure and anger through him. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." He made an effort, which resulted in a vague and dismissive shrug. "It's just we're gossiping about colleagues, and I'd prefer to think about the duty, if it's all the same to you. What did Emmeline tell you about this messenger we're supposed to watch for?"

She blinked up at him, a frown creasing her forehead, and took her hand away. "Only that he was due at about eleven-forty at the third white house from the end of the row on the right. The whole row should be clearly visible from Dung's cottage, and there's supposed to be no way we'll miss him anyway."

"Yes, that's what Kingsley said." He cut her off, before she could say anything else. "I've been given a password to get through the door."

"I've got one as well for a box inside we're supposed to open once the message has been delivered. Probably some sort of signal for Dung. Are you all right?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" He struggled to keep his tone pleasant.

"You do look tired. I know the moon was only-"

"I'm fine. You look tired yourself."

Tonks's dark eyes were hardening by the second. "I'm fine too, thanks. And I'm sorry if you don't want to pass the time in idle chit-chat with me, but I rather hope Kingsley and Emmeline do make a go of things. They might be an odd couple but at least they've got the guts to try. Which is more than you can say for some people."

Her steps quickened as she walked silently beside him, staring straight ahead, and forcing him to speed up as well. He was aghast at how this had escalated so far in so few words, and how he'd completely misinterpreted not only what she'd said, but what she hadn't.

"Tonks-"

"We're here," she said, coldly, gesturing in front of her. "You're absolutely right; let's keep our minds on the job."

As he hesitated, she added, "Where's that password of yours?"

Remus stared at her woodenly, seeing firstly only her apparent cool annoyance, and then how her left hand was clenched tightly in one of the Cloak's silvery pleats.He fumbled in his pocket. If there was one person who he should have known would never be judgemental, it was her.

It was a pity the same couldn't be said about him.

"It is impressive." Tonks was nodding her head in crisp approval. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear this was a completely run-down shack."

He stared at her averted face, feeling sick to his stomach. He couldn't think how to explain the unexplainable without starting by smacking himself on the forehead so, for want of anything better to do, he took a good look at the barn himself.

'Impressive' didn't really do it justice.

It was literally falling to bits. One good gust of wind would surely send the whole lot hurtling towards the sea. The battered wood was caked in sand, and silt and salt, and the door looked like it would collapse if you so much as lent gently against it. A rusty nameplate was hanging on grimly by one remaining nail.

Tonks reached out gingerly and touched it. "'Primrose Byre,'" she said, thoughtfully. "Certainly looks compact and bijou as well as a right dump. Emmeline said it had rustic charm and she wasn't kidding. There's no way Dung's up to this sort of magic, you know. Someone must have set all this up, if the Order uses it regularly."

_But they don't._ The thought flashed through Remus's head, but he was far too concerned with more immediate problems. He read the password for a third time and with increasing disbelief. Fair enough, Kingsley had shuffled his feet in embarrassment, and muttered something incoherent about creating it with Emmeline in mind, but what the hell had possessed the man?

He'd thought nothing could ever top inadvertently hearing Arthur say '_Mollywobbles_' one day – and hearing what Molly said in reply was even worse, though Arthur was certainly hiding his light under a large bushel if it was true - but it seemed you could live and learn, and still be completely gob-smacked. Love certainly was blind because how Kingsley ever planned to say this aloud to Emmeline, of all the unlikely women, _and _keep a straight face while doing so was quite beyond him.

Tonks chose that moment to try and peer over his shoulder. At least her voice had thawed fractionally. "It's not in Chinese again, is it? Honestly, Mad-Eye's security procedures are getting worse. Shall I have a go at it for you?"

Remus swallowed. He was going to kill Kingsley.

"I like trying to get my tongue round things," said Tonks, with the slightest hint of her former manner, and the faintest flicker of her eyelashes.

"You-saucy-little-minx," Remus said, very quickly, and looked expectantly at the door so he could dive through it the minute it opened the tiniest fraction.

"_What _did you say?" Tonks stepped back and gaped at him, her cheeks reddening. "Did you just call me…?"

Remus pushed at the door, which didn't budge. This was all he needed. Tonks was probably going to hex him into oblivion any minute now. And what was wrong with the damn door? Pulling, shoving and searching for a non-existent door knob had no effect whatsoever.

"Merlin, you're just full of surprises tonight." Tonks, unbelievably, reached forward and threaded her arm through his, pressing lightly against him. She tilted her head to one side, and considered him with her dark eyes, wide and questioning. "Do you really think that?"

"It's the bloody password, Tonks." Remus aimed a kick at the door out of several kinds of frustration. A few small pieces of wood dropped off at their feet, and dust splattered them both, but the door remained resolutely closed.

"Oh." Tonks dropped his arm like a hot potato. Any thoughts of snuggling up had clearly been cancelled for the evening, and for the foreseeable future. "Right. Of course." She whipped the piece of parchment out of his hand before he could stop her. "What about this small but essential line at the bottom? _'Read slowly and clearly as door is hard of hearing.'_ Strikes me, you might be hard of seeing, Professor Lupin."

She gave him a far from friendly stare, and held the parchment out with her dark brows raised challengingly.

_Merlin. _Remus pushed his damp hair out of his eyes and cursed himself. And Kingsley. And Kingsley's idea of either a romantic password, or a stupid joke. And the door. And –

"Are we going to stand out here all night or what?" Tonks demanded. "Sorry – did that make me sound _cheeky?_ Or _impudent? _Or another, not entirely dissimilar, word?"

Remus sighed. He met her eyes, thought a man could lose himself in those dark depths quite easily, cursed himself again for being a romantic fool and said, very slowly: "You. Saucy. Little. Minx."

The door swung open with the softest of clicks. Her dark, arched brows went even higher, nearly disappearing into her hairline. The point was perfectly clear.

Neither of them moved; they still stood almost shoulder to shoulder under the confines of the Cloak. He remembered what she'd said about Kingsley and Emmeline at least having the guts to try, and lent slightly against her.

She didn't budge.

He lent forward, so that the soft spikes of hair brushed against his cheek, and he caught a glimpse of a dark eye watching him cautiously. If she was as confused as he was by some of his actions in the last ten minutes, then it was hardly surprising. She was a compilation of colour and warmth next to him; the pink hair, dark eyes, pale skin and black jacket silhouetted against the silvery-grey background. He could smell the scent she always wore - faint notes of what he thought was lime blossom. It always made him think of a spring day, just after the rain had fallen on the grass and the trees, and the earth and the air were incredibly fresh and sweet-smelling.

Something vital and unique, just like her.

The folds of the Cloak seemed to contract in on them as he lent towards her, and the world was suddenly a small and intimate place for two. His put his lips very close to the lobe of her ear and imagined he could see the tiny hairs quivering inside.

He said, very softly: "The password suits you admirably, Nymphadora."

"Don't call me that," she said automatically, and straightened up immediately, but not before he'd caught the sudden gleam in her eye, and heard the quick indrawn breath she'd taken to match his.

Perhaps he hadn't blown it after all, and she really did want this as much as he did. A luxury room or rooms awaited them, they had hours to go yet, the easiest of duties to complete…

And who was to say it wouldn't all end with a stroll down that beach?

She was biting her lip now, apparently fascinated by something around waist level in the folds of the Cloak. There was colour in her cheeks, and she wore that same guarded expression he'd seen earlier in the kitchen. Aware of his scrutiny, she raised her head slowly and met his gaze.

Her face might be grave but the dark eyes were dancing at him again, lit from within.

"After you," he said, and smiled at her.

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**_A/N: Gilpin and MrsTater really appreciate your enthusiasm and feedback about the Prologue, and we hope you enjoyed your little jaunt through Thurlestone with Remus and Tonks. We'd love to know, actually, and we promise everyone who comments will get a bit of flirtation from whichever Remus you choose: sincere Remus, who states publicly that you always look lovely; smitten Remus, who tells you to talk shop so he can listen and watch happily; or sexy Remus, who leans in close to whisper softly that the phrase "saucy little minx" suits you admirably._**


	3. Much Fondue about Nothing

**A/N: **Co written with Mrs Tater, who has also posted this chapter on her LJ.

**Chapter Two: Much Fondue About Nothing**

There was something about Remus' smile that always made Tonks respond in kind. This rule applied even when she was wondering if he'd been knocking back a Befuddlement Draught, guaranteed to cause mood swings in even the calmest of wizards, and totally confuse pink-haired witches who didn't want to botch seemingly golden opportunities with them.

She took a deep breath, and as Remus gallantly swept out his hand, she hoped the wide grin that spread across her face didn't look too dopey. She quickly moved in front of him, discreetly took out her wand, and Transfigured the boring trainers back into her, hopefully, sexy black sandals that rubbed her heels and made balancing an art form. If nothing else, apart from costing a - if she even thought the words _an arm and a leg_ it would probably make it come true - erm, small fortune, they did enable her to see bald spots she'd never seen before. Then, fingers crossed, she lit her wand, pushed the creaky door open, slipped from beneath the folds of the Invisibility Cloak, and stepped inside Primrose Byre.

It was too dim inside to make out the interior of the cottage, and while her eyes were adjusting, Tonks inhaled deeply. She hoped for fresh-cut flowers, candles, exposed original oak beams to add character, and faintly salty sea air wafting gently through an open window.

Instead, she was nearly knocked down by the unmistakable stink of manure.

It saved her, at least, from stepping straight in a pile. But as she pulled up short, Remus, distracted by folding up the Cloak, collided with her back and sent her pitching forward.

"Shite!" she hissed, as his hands caught her waist, rescuing her from falling headlong into the filth.

The door shut behind them with a soft click again. Remus' hands fell away, and his voice was tight as he cast a _Lumos_.

"Ah," he said, looking a little relieved as he watched her picking a path around several pungent clods. "You were being literal."

Tonks looked away from him, and as her eyes scanned their watch post they burned with the stench and disappointment. Primrose Byre really was an impressive example of a ramshackle cow shed. Both outside _and_ in. A wooden structure that might have been whitewashed once, back in the dark ages, but was mostly rotten. Mouldy hay and dry sand covered a floor that couldn't have been cleared out since the place was originally built.

There were some exposed original beams, but not quite as she'd imagined. The one that appeared to be stuck at right angles through the roof, and was home to several spiders Hagrid would fancy adopting, if the size of the webs were anything to go by, definitely added character to the place.

"I knew it was too good to be true," Remus muttered, the lines round his mouth more prominent than normal.

"Maybe this is part of the charm." Tonks threw her shoulders back, and fought against the bone-deep fatigue that had suddenly set in again with Remus' resigned tone. Didn't he want this time together as badly as she did? He couldn't be giving up already, could he? "Maybe the cottage is Disillusioned inside, too, till we set the security charms."

"Tonks," said Remus wearily, walking carefully about the place, inspecting their surroundings, "this is _Mundungus Fletcher's _place. We should have known it would lack all tea making facilities and the basics for human survival."

Tonks' face flamed so hot, she thought the sweat (not the glow of perspiration a lady-like witch would have) must be coming off her forehead as steam. Of course, she was thinking wistfully about Primrose Byre, but that didn't mean she was _naïve. _The smug git would be sorry when she was proved right, Tonks thought, shooting him her best glower before turning her back on him.

She made quick work of casting a Silencing Spell over the whole place, with a variation that would amplify any voices outside, then sealed the door and the shutters in the high window that opened in what one day must have been the loft. Overhead, lanterns hung from the rafters, and she lit them with a quick flick of her wand. She was rather surprised the place did not go up in smoke like the rest of the night.

More surprisingly, though Tonks was the security expert, was her realisation that Remus had not moved to help her with the spells. She turned and found him standing perfectly still, clutching the folded Invisibility Cloak over his arm.

He was staring at her.

In the shifting lamplight, she noticed something odd about his mouth. That strange half-smile she'd seen flicker across his lips earlier. She couldn't quite remember when…

"What?" Tonks folded her arms across her chest.

Remus cleared his throat. "I believe _we _are the disillusioned ones." Blue eyes dropping downward, half-smile widening, he added, "It's probably best that you Transfigure those trainers again."

Following his gaze, Tonks watched her toes curl inwards in response to her sudden consciousness about her toe ring. Of course he thought she was ridiculous to have changed her shoes on the job. Of course he didn't like jewellery on odd bits like toes. Of course this wasn't leading to a barefoot walk on the beach.

But she'd thought that since he'd once said about pink hair suiting her…

Well, people didn't always say what they meant. If Kingsley could say Emmeline's shawl reminded him of his Gran and be complimenting his girlfriend, then Remus could say pink hair suited a professional colleague and not mean he, personally, found it attractive.

Probably he thought it suited a young girl.

Why hadn't she gone with the blonde she'd toyed with? Of course blokes preferred blondes. That was why blondes had more fun. While witches with pink hair were left to wonder where to safely put their feet in a cowshed.

"Good job it's only _us_ getting disillusioned," Tonks said, Transfiguring her shoes again, with lime green laces for spite, "and not Kingsley and Emmeline, expecting a romantic night together."

Peering up through her lashes, she saw Remus' mouth compress tightly into a line. Her heart stood still with the hope that he would disagree.

Remus said nothing, but merely Reduced the Cloak and tucked it away in his pocket.

"Well." He surveyed the barn with his wand poised. "Two members of the Order of the Phoenix ought to at least be competent enough to clean this place up. We can't have you going to the Innuendo Night Club smelling like you've spent the night in a filthy shed."

Tonks' heart sank a little lower in her chest, and her lungs felt even heavier than they already did from the thick air. Remus wasn't the slightest bit bothered by the thought of her going out and having a wild night with other blokes. Bugger it - _why _had she let Sirius wind her up?

Because, as usual, he'd hit much too close to the truth. She'd been desperate to shut him up before he embarrassed Remus, got on board Molly's matchmaking bandwagon, and ruined all Tonks' plans. She didn't need help.

_A miracle certainly wouldn't be unwelcome, though. _

Sirius would laugh himself stupid to see the mess they were both in now, left to their own devices in Dung's idea of a cosy pad with a view.

And it was odds on she'd ruin any remaining shred of hope that she could impress Remus by revealing what a crap hand she was at householdy spells.

Hedwig's cage loomed grimly in her mind's eye.

Why _had _that spell failed to clean the owl's cage? Had she simply not put enough oomph into it?

Planting herself squarely in front of a pile of droppings, she cried "_Scourgify!_" with such a mad swing of her wand that it was a miracle she didn't yank her arm out of its socket.

Nothing happened to her arm.

Or to the dung.

The only thing that happened was Remus saying, still in that maddening, calmly resigned way, "I might have known."

Jaw dropping - fortunately not all the way to the floor - Tonks whirled to face him. Remus' eyes were screwed up in what looked distinctly like an expression of annoyance. He was running his long fingers through his fringe in a gesture she would have admired under any other circumstances.

Well - perhaps admired a bit less grudgingly.

"I meant," Remus said, his lips curving slightly in a wry smile as he saw the look on her face, "that I might have known cleaning out Dung's place wouldn't be that simple."

"Oh." She decided to postpone hexing him for the time being. Though it was only on temporary hold in case he started doing any of those resigned looks again. She wasn't giving up at the first smelly obstacle, and she wasn't having him do it, either.

Tonks turned back to the floor and eyed it with suspicion. She raised her wand high over her head, then swept it downward as she bellowed one of the charms Molly had used to rid Grimmauld Place of some of the more tenacious mould.

"Bloody hell!" She stamped her foot. "Did he cast permanent sticking—What?"

Remus' shoulders shook as he chuckled softly. "I'm sorry." His lips twitched as he fought to assume a serious mask. "It's just…erm…this whole situation is absolutely ludicrous."

As he spoke he moved in front of her, giving her another glimpse of the view that had stopped her in her wobbly tracks in Grimmauld's kitchen doorway. He rolled up the sleeves of his light blue shirt up to his elbows, then shoved one hand into the pocket of his dark slacks.

Sirius had teased Remus about being dressed in his best clothes. The shirt Tonks had seen before, numerous times, as it seemed Remus had just two summer shirts. But it was the best of the two, very carefully mended and tidily pressed. Though she rather liked how the Cloak had rumpled him slightly, and how the humidity had relaxed the crisp creases in his slacks.

It was the other part of his outfit that held Tonks' attention. The slacks were less worn than his every day trousers, the chocolate brown colour rich throughout.

They fitted him _very_ well.

Remus glanced over his shoulder with a slightly raised eyebrow. Tonks flushed and glanced all around the barn in an effort to look vigilant at the things she should be looking vigilantly at.

But she met his eyes as he said, calmly, "This is a useful little spell."

He was being a right calm, casual, condescending git. He'd clearly been wetting himself at her attempts to clean up the mess. Despite all that, Tonks couldn't help but be impressed. His casual confidence was so…brilliant. Knowing Remus, this was probably a spell he'd invented.

At the same time, she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him that such a smooth move would undoubtedly fail.

Though the thought of that smirk falling, and the opportunity she'd have to get her own back at him, was wickedly appealing.

With an almost lazy flick of his wand, Remus said in a bored tone, "_Evanesco_."

Tonks pinched his arm. "_Evanesco_?"

He grinned smugly.

"You led me to believe you were going to do some 'useful little spell' I hadn't heard of, and then did a bloody _Evanesco_?"

Swiping his slightly damp fringe from his forehead, his blue eyes showing definite signs of amusement, Remus said, "It worked, didn't it?"

She'd been so sure it _wouldn't_ work that it had never occurred to her to look at the floor.

The half of the barn in which they stood was dung-free.

So much for permanent sticking charms.

And so much for being on equal footing with Remus.

Superior prat.

Superior prat whom she, ridiculously, wanted to snog more than ever. Naturally, now she'd proved so deficient in simple householdy spells that he would never want her to.

It hurt.

As did the underwiring of her Witches' Wonder Bra. Sodding thing.

"Excuse me," Tonks said, turning abruptly toward the door. "I need, erm, the facilities…" She added, in a more authoritative tone, "And I might as well put security charms on them, too."

Remus' hand caught her arm, and he pulled her gently toward him. "Are you all right?" The wary arch of his eyebrow irked her still further. "The smell is certainly enough to turn one's stomach."

"I'm fine." She wriggled from his grasp and held herself erect as she started for the door again. "I'm not squeam—_Ew!"_

"Lucky you Transfigured your sandals, hmm?" Remus flicked his wand at her soiled shoe and smiled pleasantly. "You'd have ruined that toe ring."

"Yes, lucky," Tonks snapped. "Good luck to you, getting rid of the stink, Professor Genius."

Despite her bravado, Tonks felt completely off-balance as she hurried outside. And not because she'd kicked at a clump of weeds and stumbled. She rushed into the dilapidated outhouse and leant heavily against the door.

Remus had noticed her toe ring.

He'd given her that smile.

Maybe he _did _mean it when he said he liked her pink hair.

She shook her head. No - it was nothing to get excited about. That was the look he gave everyone. She suspected it was a practised expression and, more often than not, masked thoughts that the person receiving it was a complete and total idiot.

But it was not _entirely_ the look he gave everyone.

There was definitely something else there as well. But what?

"Remus Lupin," she pleaded, "do you want a relationship with me or not?"

Outside the shed, a cow mooed.

Tonks couldn't make up her mind whether it was a positive sign.

As she raised her arms to check that her deodorant was still doing its work, the underwiring of her bra dug into her. Adjusting it did little good.

She muttered curses at herself as she tugged at the stiff lace contraption. Why had lifting and separating seemed so important tonight?

Well… She paused, face prickling with warmth that had nothing to do with the hot summer night or the stuffy outhouse, and everything to do with the way Remus had looked at her in the kitchen. And for a few seconds under the Invisibility Cloak, after they'd come so near to quarrelling over Kingsley and Emmeline, of all the ridiculous things.

She still didn't understand why he'd got so uncharacteristically wound up over it, either.

But that _look_.

If he hadn't looked at her like _that_, practicality might have had a chance against vanity. She might have given in to the obvious course of action and Transfigured her bra into something more comfortable, and morphed the same figure the Witches' Wonder Bra, guaranteed to 'make mountains out of molehills,' was giving her. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done it.

She wanted something new. Something different.

She wanted to see a man look at her and like what he saw, but only if it was really her he was seeing. She wanted a man to know that just because she could change her shape didn't mean her nature was untrustworthy. She wanted to hear _you're beautiful _and believe it was meant for _her_. Small breasts, permanently bruised knees, and all.

There were so many things Tonks was unsure of about how Remus felt, but the one thing she knew without a doubt was that he was not the sort of bloke who'd want her to fake it for him. He was equally the one wizard she never ever wanted to fake anything for. He deserved total honesty.

She wanted to be honest.

She reckoned it was a bit ironic that she was resorting to what normal witches did to help nature along, all in the name of honesty.

No way was she giving up the bra, though. Remus might be different from any other bloke she'd fancied, but even he couldn't begrudge honesty gift wrapped in red and black lace.

Resolutely, Tonks pushed open the creaky outhouse door.

And jumped backward, biting back a scream, at the sight of a pair of huge, luminous eyes staring at her.

"P-primrose?" she stammered as she caught her breath.

The cow regarded her dubiously.

"Waiting your turn for the facilities?" Tonks gave the cow a friendly slap on the shoulder to make her move. "You could have used them _before _we got here, you know, instead of leaving all those little presents in the barn. Oh, so you just wanted to see _me_?"

Primrose followed Tonks back to the barn, probably keen to reclaim her territory for the night.

"Sorry, love," said Tonks, giving her a sympathetic glance. "But Remus and I've got enough to overcome tonight without adding cows into the mix."

When Tonks entered the barn, the odour was such a contrast to the fresh air she'd just left that she thought Remus' _Evanesco _must not have done the job after all. But, no - as she made her way to the far wall to where he was levitating a battered leather sofa, she didn't encounter a single cow pat.

"There's a gap here," Remus said, attention rapt on the sofa as he carefully lowered it to the ground, "where we can watch the house. You were gone…" He looked at her and cleared his throat. "Are you all right? I tried getting rid of the stink in here, but it must be a security effect. Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to make this a proper cow shed. Cooling charms don't work, either. I'm sorry."

Why was he so concerned about her?

"I'm fine," she said. "Met Primrose."

Remus' brows arched.

"This is her byre," Tonks offered. "These are her free gifts for passing travellers."

"Oh." His voice was choked, but whether with laughter or disgust, Tonks couldn't tell.

She switched her attention to the sofa, and noted what looked like paper poking out of split seams and jagged tears. Upon closer inspection, it was ancient editions of the _Daily Prophet_. The headline was still clearly visible on the top of the faded page nearest her: _Disgraced Circus Wizard Applies To Tribunal For FunFair Dismissal._ Tonks thought grimly that there wouldn't be much fun in Dung's dismissal when she saw him. Well, for him, anyway. He'd be lucky if he had any limbs left to be able to join the circus.

"I am afraid it isn't much to sit on," said Remus. "But our only other option was turning those cauldrons over." He gestured to a heap of them in the corner. "Though you'll have to pretend you don't know where Dung stores the items that fall off the back of his broomstick, as the Order can't afford to lose its resident crook to Azkaban."

Tonks snorted and ran her hand over the cracked leather sofa. "Better than sitting anywhere else."

"You've changed your tune," Remus raised an eyebrow at her. "What was it you said about seducing Dung? Not worth it after all, hmm, since he only owns this hovel?" He jerked his head toward the peephole. "It _has _got a nice view of the village, although I'd have preferred a balcony to a peephole."

Face aflame, Tonks pretended to inspect their watch point.

Remus thought she was _shallow_. Thought she wanted a bloke with gold. Which was the farthest thing from the truth. She'd rather have someone to make her laugh at a ludicrous situation like this any day.

"We ought to watch in shifts," she said crisply, deciding it was well past time she stopped acting like a girl with a foolish crush and did her job. "Hourly intervals. Oh – and where's the box we're supposed to open when the messenger turns up?" She glanced around, scanning the space for it…

…and caught Remus watching her again.

"What?" Her arms folded over her chest.

"I…" For a split second he looked ruffled - a downward dart of her eyes told Tonks her pose was enhancing the effect of her figure-enhancing bra, so she dropped her hands to her sides, but Remus quickly composed himself and his face. "You've just made me think of a joke about Aurors I once heard, that's all."

"A joke?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Aurors do it in twelve-hour shifts, without breaks."

"And by the book."

"No, that would be professors."

Tonks had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him that everything she'd heard about him was that he was, perhaps, one of the most creative and intuitive professors who'd graced Hogwarts because he taught from his own book of natural flair. And who didn't necessarily follow rules, which was a trait she always admired.

"But," Remus went on, smiling, "I believe Aurors do it undercover."

Tonks' own smile fell. Normally she'd have laughed her head off, even though if she'd had a Galleon for all the times she'd heard that one, she'd have her own high-security vault, studded with pink diamonds, on Gringott's Millionaire's Row. But…surely Remus didn't think she might morph in the bedroom? Merlin, _why_ had she made that stupid crack about sleeping with Dung?

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked abruptly, a nervous and baffled expression replacing the previously jocular one. He flicked his wand at the rucksack he'd brought, on the floor beside the sofa - he'd been making sandwiches when she met him in the kitchen, she suddenly registered - and Tonks' stomach began to rumble furiously. Gratitude welled in parts she didn't know existed.

"I worked through lunch," she said, taking it from him and unwrapping it like a Christmas present. Sometimes, I swear you're the most—"

She didn't stop because of a realisation that she might scare or embarrass him by blurting out that he was the most thoughtful man she'd ever met, and they ought to get together immediately after they ate so she could find out how creative he was, and he could see she _didn't _do it undercover. No – as the paper fell onto the sofa, a new pong invaded her nostrils.

Stilton.

Stilton, in thick slices. On her sandwich.

It wasn't really a sandwich cheese. And it was the one cheese she loathed.

"You're the most well-prepared wizard ever for long assignments with overworked Aurors," she said weakly, plopping down on the sofa. The paper-stuffed cushions crinkled.

"I thought you might be hungry," Remus said softly.

Disappointedly.

In her peripheral, she saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. He'd been expecting a response a good deal more enthusiastic and personal than the one she'd given.

Damn it. Why did she always have to be so clumsy?

Mustering a smile against her Stilton-induced sour pout, she said, "You were really sweet to think of me."

She felt her smile widen as she watched a half-shy one curve Remus' lips. He ducked his head slightly, looking boyish as his fringe fell into his eyes. His gaze flicked up to the vacant end of the sofa. "May I?"

"No," said Tonks, "you made me a sandwich, but I won't share this seat."

Chuckling, Remus drew a second sandwich from the satchel, then lowered his frame onto the sofa. It sagged beneath his weight, pushing them closer together than a piece of furniture of this size normally would have dictated. Tonks didn't move away from him.

Remus relaxed against the back and stretched out his long legs, and took a big bite of his sandwich. Tonks fought her gag reflex as, by all visible indications, Remus actually _savoured _the Stilton. How on earth anybody could was quite beyond her.

She'd heard him comment on the disgusting taste of Wolfsbane Potion. He must have a cast iron stomach.

Did he eat odd things as a werewolf? Did any wolfish qualities linger beyond the full moon? A taste for rare steak, perhaps?

If they ever got together, how on earth would she ask?

Remus was open about his condition, but he was a private man, too. How did a girl ask enough questions to be informed, without making him feel a curiosity, or offending him? Knowing when to quit had never been one of her strong suits. And even if she did stay on the right side of what must be the finest line in the world, how did she show interest and also prove none of those things mattered to her?

She knew she was an inquisitive person, and normally she wouldn't think twice about asking what she wanted. She also knew she was as prone to clumsy speech as she was to tripping over her own two feet. Embarrassing social pratfalls were nothing new to her, but she couldn't think of anything more humiliating than falling flat on her face where Remus was concerned. The fact that she was getting just a bit distressed over this only reiterated what she'd felt earlier. She _couldn't_ bugger this up with him.

"We don't have to take it in turns, you know," Remus' voice drew her from her musings. He was peering thoughtfully out through the gap. "We can both see out."

Taking another bite, he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Sorry if I was bossy," she said, swallowing guilt and Stilton. Both were equally hard to digest.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Not at all."

Tonks wanted to be relieved by that, but his eyes were sparkling again.

_What in Merlin's name did that look mean?_

"You're the professional," he said approvingly. But his forehead creased suddenly as he glanced at her sandwich. "I know you prefer Cheddar, but Sirius ate it all. And I couldn't find anything else."

His tone was a bit concerned, and his posture had changed; he leant forward, shoulders rounded. He'd really put a lot of thought into this sandwich. He'd made a good deal of effort.

Remus knew her favourite cheese. Tonks couldn't recall ever having discussed cheese with him.

"This is fine," she said, taking a huge bite, and immediately wishing she hadn't. "Though I could do with something to wash it down."

"I am afraid I only brought tea things," said Remus, eyes dropping guiltily, "and as I observed—"

"Oh look!"

Laying her sandwich on the paper wrapping beside her, Tonks hopped up and darted across the barn to the stash of cauldrons. In the corner was a rusty tap. Pipes gurgled as she turned it on, and she jumped back to avoid a sudden rush of water.

"It's actually _clean_," she said, cupping her hand under the stream. "Have you got cups or anything?

Remus pushed himself stiffly up from the sofa, reached into the rucksack he'd brought, and withdrew two of Sirius' mugs. He started to carry them to her, but Tonks Summoned them out of his hands. "I can handle filling a few mugs. Eat your sandwich."

She worried that her voice had that bossy edge again, but Remus gave that smile which kept making her heart skip the odd beat, as he resumed his seat and took another bite of his sandwich.

As she filled them, Remus said, "Of course, if you wanted to watch in turns so you can take a nap, we certainly can."

Tonks waved her wand over the mugs, then rose carefully and approached him slowly so as not to slosh it. Remus' perceptive gaze on her, however, scrutinising her every move, made not spilling anything an even more difficult task than usual.

"I know you've been working long shifts all week," he said, taking a mug from her. It was the one with, '_Take me drunk – I'm home!'_ on it. Which left her with the appropriately labelled,_ 'What if the Hokey Pokey really is what_ _it's all about?'"_

The mere thought of doing anything that involved that much movement and coordination made Tonks think longingly of the long night's sleep she'd given up to spend time with Remus.

Opening her eyes wider, she said, "Eating's perked me right up. And I think this'll help, too."

Remus nodded. "I thought it might. I read once that it's impossible to fall asleep while eating." He took a sip of water, and his face lit up with delight. "You know a charm for sparkling water?"

"_Carbonatio_. Mum taught it to me. Shame I don't know one for adding a slice of lemon.." She took her seat again, and as she juggled her drink and sandwich, asked, "_Is_ it impossible to fall asleep when you're eating?"

"Actually, no." Remus sighed and crossed his long legs. "The first night James ever spent as Prongs, he ran around so much he was completely exhausted the next day. We thought he was quiet at dinner and when we looked round he was slumped over his plate with a large cabbage leaf hanging out of the corner of his mouth."

Tonks giggled. "Bet he never lived that down."

"He didn't."

Remus waved his hand very near her. Tonks glanced down as a fly buzzed away from her food. She smiled as he continued.

"It wasn't as bad as some of the things Sirius fell asleep eating as a dog. And as for Peter – it's true that rats eat absolutely anything."

_Apparently so do Aurors with gigantic crushes_.

"Including girl's underwear apparently. Flavia Fortescue's French—"

Tonks bit down too hard on her sandwich, and a chunk of tomato shot out the end and landed on her leg.

"Tonks, I'm sorry—" Remus' nimble fingers plucked the tomato off her jeans; the other procured a damp handkerchief (had he just Conjured it wandlessly, whilst holding a mug in the other hand?) and dabbed at the pinkish stain on her knee. "I promise this isn't a Marauder joke, a trick sandwich….I ought to have made something less messy."

His reaction was so bizarre that Tonks nearly spilled her sparkling water, too. Why on earth would cool, calm, and very collected Remus Lupin flagellate himself over a bloody _sandwich_?

"Hey." Tonks laid aside her sandwich again, and touched his hand, stopping him swiping at her jeans. "This is _me_ we're talking about. You could have given me bread and butter and I'd have found some way to make the butter fall off the bread and into my lap, yeah?"

"If I answer that," said Remus, corners of his mouth twitching, "I shall find myself in much direr straits than a tomato could have dreamed of putting me."

Hoping she looked as authoritative as her career dictated she ought, Tonks replied, "Only if you answer truthful—"

Her words trailed away as she suddenly became aware of Remus' warm hand and long fingers beneath hers. Tonks pulled her hand away, clutched her mug for support, and said shakily, "Flavia Fortescue?"

With a reminiscent smile that gave no indication of his being offended or relieved that she'd let go of his hand, Remus sank back against the sofa.

"Flavia never did know what happened to her French knickers, and Peter had terrible indigestion for days afterwards. I don't know what he said to Madam Pomfrey, but she wouldn't speak to him for weeks. And the trouble is…"

Remus stretched his arm along the back of the sofa, hand resting so that if Tonks were to sit up a little straighter, his fingertips would brush her shoulder. She was grateful that the paper-stuffed cushions allowed her to sink a little lower into them, away from those tantalising fingers.

"…every time Harry asks me to tell him something memorable about his Dad," Remus continued, sipping his water, "I live in fear that I'm going to say, 'Well, there was one time when James ate poison ivy, and developed the world's first ever case on a tongue.'"

They laughed, and Remus raked a hand through his hair in the familiar gesture that put Tonks in an epic internal battle to decide whether she'd rather trail her fingers through his soft hair, or feel his in hers. She was distracted from these trivial thoughts when a bittersweet look mingled with the mirth in his eyes as he stared vacantly into his mug. The laughter lines at the corners of his mouth seemed a little more deeply etched with fatigue.

"It's not fair," Remus said huskily, "for Harry to know James only through anecdotes his mates never let him live down."

Tonks didn't quite know what to do with a comment like that, and didn't feel like Remus was exactly inviting her into his past.

Sometimes she really wished there had been Social Etiquette Classes at Hogwarts. Preferably without Snape in charge of them, of course.

Tonks took a long drink, then said, "Talking of Harry, did he seem okay today?"

Remus shrugged. "I didn't see him."

There was something off about his demeanour, and Tonks' immediate thought was that she'd blundered by changing the subject. Then she noted the lines of his face and felt like a complete and utter prat.

"Oh," she said flatly. "Because you were…recovering."

Remus gave her a measured look, but said quietly, "Dumbledore had me running errands all day."

Tonks' relief at not having offended him by mentioning the lingering effects of full moons was short-lived.

He continued more crisply, "Harry put on a brave face, according to Sirius. I am glad we brought him to Grimmauld. It's good he's got his friends."

If anyone knew what friends could get a person through, it was Remus. Could he count her as one of that sort? Was she more than that to him?

Did he have any idea how much his friendship meant to her? Or did Remus separate friendship and fancy? Did they teach you how to ask these questions in Social Etiquette Classes? Because she'd love to know how you did.

His hand resting on the back of the sofa shifted, and he touched her shoulder with his index finger. "Did you hear anything around the Ministry?"

Tonks sat up abruptly, face flushing that he'd caught her daydreaming and was calling her on it by asking a question he already knew the answer to.

"You heard my report at the meeting," she blurted, drawing up her knees and resting her mug on one. "Scrimgeour's been asking Kingsley and me—"

His finger touched her lightly again, stopping her. "No," he said, smiling gently. "About Harry's trial."

"Oh."

She met his gaze, and for an instant caught an expression that made her swallow. She felt a bead of sweat trickle very slowly between the hollow of her breasts. His eyes flicked, almost imperceptibly, downwards. Coincidence? The sky blue eyes were back holding hers again so quickly, it was easy to wonder if she'd imagined it.

Squirming against the sofa in what she hoped was a subtle attempt to adjust her bra straps, she said, "If Harry gets off —"

"He _will _get off," Remus interrupted, withdrawing his hand. "Dumbledore will see to it."

"'Course he—" It was one wiggle too much. Tonks' bra strap slipped off her shoulder. Thank Merlin for her jacket. "Course he'll get off, but Fudge'll use it against Dumbledore. His constant law-bending and all that, will be said to be totally inappropriate for the man in charge of educating Britain's wizards etc. etc."

"Somehow," said Remus, leaning toward her conspiratorially, arm sliding very close to her now, "I think that sort of talk might please him a great deal."

The other strap started to slip, and Tonks was made all too aware of the unstoppable force of gravity, and the increasingly urgent concept that what's shoved up will, without support, suddenly fall down. Thrusting her empty cup at Remus, she leapt from the sofa. "Got to use the loo again."

As she bolted, she glanced back. To her relief, he didn't look hurt that she'd moved away from him. But was it any better that he looked a bit like a man who was either guilty or embarrassed or both?

When she returned a few minutes later, having cast a drying charm on her clothes, readjusted her bra hook, and forsaken the jacket, he was reclining against the arm of the sofa, legs stretched out and head lolled back in a drowsy pose. In profile she could see his eyes held that glazed look once more as he traced the rim of his mug with his index finger. He turned his head slowly to glance at her as she approached.

"I do hope you're keeping watch," said Tonks in her most no-nonsense tone, "and not kipping. Hardly a constantly vigilant position, Lupin."

She'd said it partly to compensate for having rushed out in such a un-Aurorly fashion, but mainly to test what kind of reaction her _professionalism_ earned her.

Remus chuckled, but his expression was a little sheepish as he sat up. And as Tonks resumed her seat beside him, draping her jacket over the back, she noted that he was trying very hard not to look tired.

"I'm vigilant," he said, standing and stretching his arms over his head - apparently the mug he still held was empty - and rising up slightly on the balls of his feet. "But you, are you all ri—" A hand dropped to cover his mouth as he yawned hugely.

Tonks followed suit.

"Are _you_ tired?" Remus asked. He refilled his mug at the tap, then repeated the _Carbonatio _charm she'd done earlier. Nodding at her own mug, which sat atop the sandwich paper on the floor (he'd discarded the remains of her sandwich, which made her cringe a little that she'd not hidden her dislike for it), he asked, "Would you like another drink, or are shifts in order?"

Indignation and guilt curled inside Tonks. Sure, she was behind on sleep, but _she _hadn't gone through a total change in physiology two nights ago. Why did he always feel the need to help others at his own expense?

Tonks shook her head and crouched to put her mug in the rucksack. "I yawned because you yawned. You know, that whole yawning's contagious thing?" Before he could respond, she drew a deep breath and said impulsively, "I know you've not had a chance to rest properly from last—"

"I'm fine, Tonks," Remus interrupted. "Really. I would not have swapped with Kingsley if I had not felt up to taking his duty."

He began to pace, rolling his neck and shoulders, stretching his arms.

Tonks bit back a ridiculous urge to ask him if that was really true, or if he'd swapped because he'd get to spend time with her, as she had done.

Which was absurd. He'd seemed surprised when she'd cornered him in the hall. Though he'd given her that smile she'd never seen him give anyone else, the one that had made her go into a ridiculous panic about what to wear, and spend a ridiculous amount of time trying out hair colours and styles as the bathroom mirror criticised her?

She resumed her seat and glared at her discarded jacket, and tugged discreetly at her chafing bra strap. What she was wearing didn't matter in the least. Not now. She'd ruined it. She'd made Remus feel ancient and pitied and not up to snuff.

Merlin, she was so clumsy! She slid forward on the couch and let her head fall back on the crinkling cushions. She _would _blow it with a bloke like Remus - a patient, forgiving bloke who seemed pretty difficult to put off. She was going to wind up single forever, like Snape, Trelawney, and Hagrid. They could start their own Desperate Dating Agency.

Thankfully, Remus strode back into her line of vision, driving Snape and the others out of her mind as he planted himself directly in front of her, hands in his pockets, smiling. He nudged her foot with his.

"Up for a game? A bit of activity might keep us sharp."

"All right." Tonks sat up, feeling rather dazed by this sudden turn. "What sort of game?"

"Something intellectual, of course," said Remus, "as we're whacked."

"Have you got Scrabble or something where the sandwiches came from?"

He momentarily looked like this was a very good idea he was annoyed with himself for not having thought of. But he smiled. "I Spy."

She grinned. "Ooh, Mad-Eye'd definitely approve. He always ropes me into Battlebrooms or Hangwizard. He loves the latter, of course."

As he sank onto the sofa, Remus' weight pulled Tonks toward him. Instead of moving away, she drew up her legs. Once again, he stretched out the arm nearest her along the back of the sofa. She spied the fine hairs, golden in the lamplight. What it would be like to touch them seemed a very serious subject to ponder.

"Don't ever play I Spy with Alastor," said Remus. "He cheats with his magical eye."

"I don't even want to know," said Tonks, and quickly started the game, "I spy with my little eye something beginning with _M_."

Remus didn't even look about the barn. "Manure."

"Yep. Your go."

He took a drink, but it didn't clear the weary deepness from his voice when he said, "Something beginning with _D_."

Tonks really wanted to urge him to sleep, but she swatted his shoulder. "You're not trying, Remus! Dung!"

"Mmn." He rested his chin on his arm propped on the sofa, and flicked a pair of bleary eyes up at her. "Go on then, impress me."

His slightly hoarse voice and blue eyes looking at her from under his hair – it had fallen forward again - made it momentarily impossible for Tonks to speak. The world had a dreamlike quality to it, and her mind worked sluggishly. It was so warm in here. Like sitting too close to a fire. Like being under that Cloak again. It would be so easy to curl up with him and drowse…

Duty. They were on duty. This game was about keeping awake.

She sat up straight and tried to think.

The names of things in the room escaped her.

The stench of the place was overpowering.

"Something beginning with _S._"

"I shall choose to believe," said Remus, resting his mug on his thigh and running an elegant finger around the lip, "that you are not throwing out another synonym for excrement, and want me to call you a saucy little minx again."

The self-control thing was improving no end because, instead of saying 'What a fantastic idea, Professor Lupin!' she merely nodded in mature appreciation, and restrained her lips to the slightest of twitches. Although her mind ran riot in several very interesting directions.

"Nope. I spied _sleepy_ Remus."

"Adjectives don't count."

At least this time he hadn't denied fatigue. Maybe she could convince him to sleep. Maybe she could do it without offending him. Maybe he would accept it in the spirit in which she meant it - as a friend who cared about the well-being of the other.

If they couldn't be vulnerable in front of each other, how could they ever have anything more?

And was she ever going to stop asking herself questions she couldn't answer?

"Please sleep, Remus. I'm knackered, too, but I think I can hold out another hour." She reached for his mug, but his fingers which had been slack around the handle tightened as he lifted his head.

"I'm fine," Remus said. "You go first."

"Nope." Tonks held at her hand and looked steadily at him. "I won I Spy. My prerogative."

A heartbeat of silence, then he slowly placed the mug in her upturned palm.

She watched him slide down in the sofa awkwardly, trying to rest his neck in the corner of the sofa.

"I could lend a shoulder," Tonks offered.

But Remus had taken out his wand. "Thanks, but…_Cushfirma_," he said, tapping the back of the sofa.

"Sorry?" Tonks watched incredulously as he pocketed his wand and sank back, hands folded over his waist, with a satisfied sigh. "Did you say _Cushfirma_, or should I have my ears examined?"

"Your ears are fine," said Remus. "_Cushfirma _is the Marauders' variation on a Cushioning Charm–"

"Oh, I love that spell! I've frequently had a pillow _and _a duvet on my Comet Two Sixty during night flights. What's the _Cushfirma_ do?"

"Apparently it's a very useful little spell. James and Sirius worked it out when they found the Shrieking Shack, well…as cosy as this place." To Tonks' amusement, Remus seemed to have a little more energy as the opportunity to teach arose. "The sleeper feels his – or her – head is resting on the softest cushion you could wish for, even if there's only a brick wall to lean against."

"Are you taking the piss?"

"Would I do that? Especially here, where excrement is already abundant?"

Remus chuckled low at Tonks' pointed look. It was husky, and sexy, and he fought the fluttering of his eyelids. Tonks' heart fluttered, too. Much as Remus needed sleep, she loved the idea of him fighting it because he would rather stay awake with her.

He turned to face her. "Ask Sirius if you don't believe me."

"Oh, because he'd _never _take the piss."

"He used the _Cushfirma _every day in Binns' class."

"Wish I'd known about it. Did you ever use it in History of Magic?"

"Mmm." Remus was giving in to the battle against his eyelids. "Especially after full moon." His eyes suddenly snapped open, and he raised his head. "What time is it?"

Tonks checked her watch. "Gone nine."

"Do you _promise _you'll wake me at ten? Then you can sleep for an hour, and we can both be up for the last hour, in case the messenger comes early, or he's not alone."

"Of course I promise," said Tonks. "I want to try the _Cushfirma_."

He gave her a long look, as though he thought she really might let him sleep for the next three hours and take charge of everything herself.

"Look," she said with an exasperated sigh, grabbing her wand from her jacket, "you're not the only one who knows useful little spells. Mad-Eye taught me this one after I was two minutes and twenty-six seconds late for a duty with him once. Said it never fails. _Tunawhacka._"

Remus arched an eyebrow. "That sounds a bit…rudimentary."

"Yeah, well, Mad-Eye doesn't really use words like _rudimentary_, does he?"

He snorted and relaxed. "What's it do? Sounds like I might get hit."

"Yes - by a tune," said Tonks. She hadn't used it yet, but it seemed like an elementary enough assumption that it worked by blasting loud music in the sleeper's ear. Mad-Eye had said she was sure to appreciate it. "Do you like waking to beautiful music?"

"That depends whether your definition of _beautiful music_ includes the Weird Sisters."

Tonks shot him a playful glare. "I'd thought Celestina Warbeck might be more obnoxious, but if you insist on the Weird Sisters—"

Remus' eyes cracked open with slight annoyance. "Are you sure _you're _not taking the piss? Because it doesn't seem like Alastor to invent spells that wake people who are supposed to be on duty."

He had a point. "I think it's more precautionary. Go to sleep. You're wasting minutes."

Remus' head relaxed against the charmed sofa, and his eyes had barely closed when his breathing deepened. Before too long, he was gently snoring, and Tonks turned her attention to the row of moonlight-bathed cottages.

The quaintest village, Emmeline had described it, with the loveliest beach. And Molly, coming upon Tonks the instant Emmeline had left, had dreamily reminisced about her and Arthur having a lovely getaway from the then five boys at a nearby Wizarding bed and breakfast, and spending a day in Thurlestone at the beach. She'd found out soon after that holiday she was expecting Ron, and so, of course, had an extra fondness for Thurlestone and all that invigorating sea air.

Naturally, after it had got done picturing what sort of bathing clothes Arthur would have passed off as Muggle, Tonks' one-track mind had fixated on the possibilities of practising the sort of holiday activities that led to Molly's brand of souvenir, which clearly didn't include a stick of rock. _Without_ actually leading to it, of course.

"It's too bad," Molly had said, "you'll be doing duty there with Kingsley, since you're in such a romantic place."

Tonks hadn't mentioned the small but crucial fact that Remus had swapped with Kingsley, and instead said that Kingsley was probably thinking the same thing. Molly had received the news of that unlikeliest of couples, Emmeline and Kingsley, with round eyes, open mouth, and momentary speechlessness.

"I've suspected for a while." Tonks had lied for some reason unbeknown to her. Except that she thought she _should _have noticed what was going on under her very nose.

Molly had given a knowing smile and said she had a soft spot for unlikely couples, as her family had thought Arthur was all wrong for her at the start. The Prewetts were such an old Wizarding family, and the Weasleys weren't known for caring much for fame or fortune. But of course Molly had been too in love with Arthur to care about money. "I suppose that's probably a bit how it was for your mother, wasn't it dear?"

At the time Tonks had thought it a nice parallel of her own unlikely romance. Now, however, she thought ruefully of her unfortunate jokes about Dung, which had made Remus think she _did _care about the things _her _old Wizarding family stood for.

Yes, she and Remus certainly were an unlikely couple, Tonks thought with a sigh. Unlikely to ever become a couple, the way the night was going.

Although… He was sleeping now, his head tilting awfully close to her shoulder. Her breath ruffled his hair, and as it tickled her bare skin, she smiled because she had been right about how soft it was.

She moved to make herself more comfortable, and the unstable sofa shifted as well. Remus' head fell firmly against her shoulder.

Tonks craned her neck to see if he'd woken, but his gentle snores carried on. Had the _Cushfirma _spell applied to just the sofa, or whatever Remus laid his head on? She probably ought to try and shift him back to his original position, seeing as he'd refused her shoulder earlier, but she didn't want to wake him.

She ignored the voice that said she really liked feeling him lean against her.

Under the Invisibility Cloak with Remus, she realised she'd never fully understood being close to someone before. Space, of course, was limited, and the constant brush of his body against hers almost made her wish their assignment was to stand on the hillside and watch from the Cloak all night.

But more than physical closeness, it was the way he'd so naturally drifted between business and banter. She couldn't imagine him letting his guard down so completely under the same circumstances with, say, Emmeline.

He trusted her. That she'd convinced him to sleep was the ultimate proof of that. She _really _couldn't imagine him kipping during a shift with even as vigilant a partner as Kingsley. Or Mad-Eye. Even if she had had to pry it out of him that he hadn't got enough rest after the full moon.

They were equals. Colleagues. Friends.

And just before they'd come in here, he'd stopped and leant down to her, and she'd tingled all over at the thought of how perfectly his body would curve over hers, until she lost the ability to think at all because his lips were almost against her ear, and his warm breath as he whispered made every bit of her quiver with anticipation. '_It suits you admirably, Nymphadora.'_

Then she'd ruined it with her reflexive '_Don't call me that.'_

But it really hadn't been her name she was reacting to. Remus couldn't have had any idea just what sort of things he was making her feel, and she herself had been caught off-guard. She'd only just retained control of her eyes, because if she hadn't… She didn't want to think about how quickly he'd have run for the hills if he realised how dead on Mrs. Black's portrait was when it called her a shape-shifting freak.

Forcing herself to stop studying his face and thinking how boyish he looked when he was sleeping, the fine lines around his mouth and eyes barely noticeable, Tonks glanced at her watch.

Thirty minutes left. She was damn well going to enjoy them.

Her bra, however, seemed determined not to let her. She clenched her teeth and tried not to groan as wriggling made it cut into her back.

The Witches' Wonder Bra. Wonder what? Wonder why any witch would wear one?

Fed up, she sat up a bit – Remus moved with her, stirring just a little, burrowing his face into the crook of her arm as she reached around to loosen the clasp one more notch.

Tonks' fingers froze as Remus' head lolled onto her chest.

She caught her breath.

Remus sighed deeply, his breath tickling her cheek. He looked extremely comfortable. Unfortunately she was anything but. Hadn't that supposed genius Sirius Black considered the feelings of the object being slept on at all? Namely the girls he'd undoubtedly snuggled up with? Then again, Sirius was Mr. Smooth, but no one had ever said anything about Considerate.

In any case, this was probably the first time ever the spell had achieved two cushions at once. Now _that _really was a wonder. As was wondering how the hell this night just lurched from one embarrassing situation to another.

She really ought to wake him up, shouldn't she?

_**A/N: Thanks very much to everyone who's watching poor Remus and Tonks suffer through all these smells and situations. We apologise for the cliffie, but everyone who reviews will get a Remus of their choice to entertain you till we post Chapter Three: Show-off Remus, who's quite snoggable despite his Superior Prat routine; Thoughtful Remus, who knows your favourite cheese even if he doesn't have any to put on the sandwiches he's made for you; Playful Remus, who'll stay up late with you for a game of I Spy; or Sleepy Remus, who doesn't know where he's casting Cushfirma Charms. **_


	4. Of Fire and Ice

**A/N: **It's been a while so we do hope you all remember exactly where some people are inadvertently taking a nap …

**Chapter 3**

**Of Fire and Ice**

Sleep came easily to someone who'd long perfected the art of spontaneous nap taking in the days following a full moon.

During Remus' teaching year at Hogwarts, laying his head against a pile of essays on the oak desk at lunch time could almost instantly snatch him a precious half hour's rest. The only worry was remembering to check for possible ink stains afterwards, so as to avoid striding into class with evidence of Daphne Greengrass' unshakable resolve to refer to a Hinkypunk as a Hunkypunk written boldly across his cheek. But a part of his mind remained forever alert in case he needed to shoot upright at sudden footsteps outside his door, or be quickly aware that a train carriage had been plunged into darkness and danger was fast approaching.

He hated to admit it, but he knew this was how the wolf slept; one ear always open for approaching prey or predators. Asleep, but never quite relaxed. Always on guard.

Now though, he was as relaxed as he'd never been before in this situation, secure in the knowledge that if something were to happen Tonks would either deal with it or wake him. He was conscious only of her soft breathing close to him, of how much he liked listening to it, and how very reassuring it was to know she was there. So reassuring he allowed his mind to do exactly as it wanted, and drift through a variety of thoughts, reaching neither decisions nor conclusions because that would involve far too much effort.

_Hopefully she'd get over the disappointment soon … Must make the most of this time with her … Dung was an absolute menace … Emmeline would have keeled over at the smell …"Romantic Thurlestone on a hot and steamy night" … Who'd said that? … She'd looked so beautiful under the Cloak … Something about that password wasn't right … Oh, let someone else worry, he was busy sleeping … Why did she keep rushing out? ... Couldn't compare to all the young wizards she must know …Really impressed with the Cushfirma spell … Softest, warmest pillow ever … Think of one of Sirius' chat-up lines … "Do you fancy a ride on my pillion, darling?" … But he hadn't got a motorcycle with him, had he …._

Remus felt his head slide down a little as the pillow shifted underneath him. He raised his head back up, which seemed to cause corresponding movement underneath again, and reluctantly put a sleepy hand up to pull it back into that position he'd found so comfortable.

His hand _froze_.

It might have been a while, but he knew without any doubt whatsoever exactly what he'd got his hand on. For one horrific moment he thought he was completely paralysed, and then several things seemed to happen at once.

"Oh, bugger," said Tonks' voice in his ear, as the movement underneath his head became a whole lot rockier, like a series of seismic shifts. "You've _really _got to get off me!"

Remus took her at her word. He shot upwards and sideways in a manner similar to one he'd adopt if he spotted twenty Death Eaters closing in on him. It resulted in him standing with his back pressed against the wooden planks, his arms folded defensively across his middle, and his brain completely without the slightest clue what to say or do next. Belatedly he realised he'd only missed smacking her in the chin by the merest fraction, which really would have added injury to insult.

Tonks stood up too, quite slowly, smoothing her top down and rotating her head and shoulders as though they were aching. She was watching him carefully; one hand resting lightly against her chest, which completely failed to obscure the sizeable red patch that now disfigured it.

_He could just make out a curved shape which resembled an ear … _

Remus felt the heat rise in his cheeks. "Tonks," he began, thinking, hoping, and almost praying that the one thing he could always count on her to do was to see the funny side of most situations. Except that her strained reaction to his stupid Auror jokes earlier meant he really couldn't count on that one as being infallible tonight.

She gave him a hard stare, rubbed a shoulder meaningfully, and turned her back on him.

_Oh, God._ He'd never seen her face so expressionless.

"Tonks," he said again. "I'm most dreadfully sorry."

Her voice when it came was a little muffled, but very cold. "I can't believe you, Remus."

"It was the spell," he said, anxiously, thinking how he was going to absolutely string Sirius up for failing to mention a few all-important details about it. "I had absolutely no idea where I was, or what I had my head against."

"Great." The reply was still muffled, her head bent down low in what seemed like mortification. Even the pink spikes seemed to droop slightly. "Thanks a bunch."

Remus wondered wildly what she wanted from him; his ideas ranged from grovelling profusely, which could make things worse, to trying to lighten matters with a joke, which could make things very much worse, to -

Her shoulders twitched slightly. Her head sunk even lower towards her chest.

"To think I always had you down as a gentleman as well." Her voice quavered, as though she could hardly bear to say the words. It held a faint note he tried frantically to identify. Shock? Disgust? He told himself to stop over-reacting, because this was Tonks after all; history _wasn't _repeating itself, and if she could handle him being a werewolf as nothing to get too excited about, then she was hardly likely to be fazed by him snoring on her chest.

He let his eyes study her posture with a degree of calculation.

"Mum always warned me wizards were just after one thing." The voice was so indistinct now he had to strain to hear. He could only see one slim hand, clasping the side of her waist.

He strongly suspected this was because she had the other jammed in her mouth.

Why the little … _minx._ He took a quick breath that was mostly relief, but also admiration of her ability to totally wind him up for a few seconds.

"I feel as if I should apologise profusely to you and your Mother," he said calmly. "And thank you profusely as well, Nymphadora, for being so … _supportive_ about the whole thing."

A great snort of laughter burst from her. She swung round, quite scarlet, giggling uncontrollably at him and clutching her middle. The pink spikes bobbed up and down in enjoyment as well. He laughed too, responding to the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, but mostly to her; just as he always did and was beginning to suspect he always would.

"I d-didn't know you c-could get c-c-cramp there," she said hysterically. "I really h-had no idea at all. You've d-d-discovered a whole new medical c-condition, P-P-Professor Lupin."

"Do you think I'll get awarded the booby prize for it?" he asked wryly, and she collapsed again in an absolute howl of mirth, waving her hand and nodding her head at him in appreciation.

He laughed at her, watching her wipe the corner of each eye with the edge of her hand, and try and calm down.

"W-Well," she said, her voice still shaking as she tried to bring it under control. "Well I think it's fairly s-safe to say there's nothing else that can happen tonight that can top this. Only you'd do such a crazy spell without trying it out first!"

"Of course," Remus grinned at her, raising an eyebrow in innocent query, "one _very_ interesting question is why you didn't wake me up straight away?"

"You needed to sleep, of course. I felt sorry for you." She said it as though it was totally obvious.

He smiled. "I don't think I've ever said this before, in fact I'm sure I haven't, but please feel free to feel sorry for me in that particular way again at any time."

She straightened up and sobered up almost instantly, her hand falling away from her mouth. Her eyes met his. They were still rather watery but they were sparkling at him, alive with amusement and … possibly something else.

He hesitated, told himself sternly that he wasn't going to hesitate any more and, instead, planned his next line and what she was likely to say in return. Just to make sure, he even planned the line after that. And a back-up one in case he needed to improvise, plus a spontaneous joke or two in case he needed to appear … naturally spontaneous. There was also time for an emergency get-out clause, in case it all went pear shaped, though possibly that wasn't the best choice of words after recent events.

He took a step towards her. At exactly the same time as his feet moved, there was a sharp crack next to his right ear, and his head snapped round in alarm to see what had made it.

"What the -" Tonks started to speak, but her voice was drowned out instantly by the one that followed.

"_Nymphadora Tonks!" _it bellowed. _"Get your good for nothing backside out of that bed or you'll find out what losing a buttock really means!"_

"Oh, bugger." Tonks held her wand in her hand but, as she recognised the voice at the same time as he did, she let it fall loosely to her side. She stared at him, white-faced. "Remus, I think you should -"

"_You horrible, lazy little Auror!" _Moody's roar reached a tone and pitch that made the whole barn reverberate and shudder under the force. _"Don't ever be late on my watch again!"_

"Remus!" Tonks was sounding urgent now. "You really need to -"

There was another crack very close to his face, this time from the opposite direction. Remus started to reach reflexively for his wand as he caught a glimpse of something long, dark and fan-shaped coming at a frightening speed towards him. He tried to duck, but it anticipated the move perfectly, dodged the hand he flung up to protect himself, and slapped him very neatly and wetly across the face.

For a moment, his brain couldn't quite assimilate – or simply refused to - the knowledge that both the smell and the sensation strongly suggested he'd just been assaulted by a rather disgusting and scaly tail.

"– move," finished Tonks, in a whisper. "Oh, my God. Tunawhacka. It's a bloody -"

"Fish alarm," said Remus dryly, mopping his face. "Yes, thank you for that useful piece of information, Nymphadora, it's always good to know these things after the event. What was it you were saying about using crazy spells without trying them out first? It seems to have slipped my mind."

She bit her lip. They both seemed to reach a simultaneous decision to sit down on the sofa again, and he found himself regarding her from one side of it, while she looked at him with the same mixture of sheepishness or, more likely, fishiness, and caution from the other.

"I laughed at your balls-up," she said, eventually.

"You wound me up first, though."

"Are you winding me up now?"

"No, I'm trying to get rid of the smell." Remus waved his wand. "The additional smell, at any rate." He attempted to sniff the side of his face, and decided it was physically impossible.

"You're all right," said Tonks, helpfully. "It's gone." She made an involuntary movement as though she wanted to lean across and check out the truth of her words, but thought better of it, and sank back in the sofa again. "You've still got a mark on your cheek though."

Remus looked pointedly for a few seconds at a certain part of her anatomy that, one way or another, he seemed to have spent a vast amount of time looking at tonight. Her own mark had faded to a dull pink, but was still visible.

Her mouth twitched again. She appeared to be getting ready to find it all extremely funny once more, and he thought it was about time she ate some humble pie here, too. Preferably before everyone roared their heads off, and agreed it was all highly amusing and jolly good fun for all the family.

Besides, his cheek still stung, and he was feeling a bit petty.

"It's an odd sort of revenge, even for Mad-Eye. How many times were you late?"

"Only once!" Her voice and face were indignant. "I can't believe him."

"And why were you late?"

"It was only by two bloody minutes! Honestly, he's getting nuttier all the time."

"So why were you late?"

"I apologised as well, so there's no reason to take it out on me like that."

Remus sighed. "I seem to recall he's taken it out on someone else. Stop avoiding the question. I've taught seventh year Slytherin, remember? There's no tactic I can't see through, and claiming demonic possession won't do you any good either as Marcus Flint will verify."

Tonks chewed on her bottom lip and spent a little while staring fixedly at the white house through the watch hole. Eventually, she said: "I went to get something to eat."

"Where from? Australia?"

"No." She gave him a glare. "I'd skipped lunch, and I knew it would be about eleven o'clock at night till I got anything. So I just nipped out to a Muggle shop."

Remus waited. Tonks waited too, but it was an unfair contest.

She flared at him, her words coming in a slightly guilty rush. "All right, I went to a Muggle fish and chip shop!"

There was silence.

"Fish," said Remus, thoughtfully. He considered an interesting section of wood worm and rot he'd spotted earlier in the planks for just long enough to let her stew on it. "What an odd coincidence that is."

"Yes, fish!" Tonks ran her hand through her hair in exasperation. "I never in a million years thought – I mean, I even offered him some!"

"Did he eat it?" Remus asked, with some interest.

"No, he thought it should be tested for all known poisons first, and preferred to see if I'd keel over." Tonks sighed and leaned forward, clasping her hands together. "Look, we're even now, aren't we? I've laughed at you, and now you can laugh at me for thinking Mad-Eye, of all people, would give me an alarm that plays pop music. I must have been deranged myself."

Remus pulled a face. "I don't know. I'm finding it hard to forget all that lecturing you did earlier. Let's see, how did it go? Something about betting me lots of Galleons that this would be like a palace inside?"

"Yeah, well I don't remember _you_ telling me that I was an optimistic idiot at the time, or that the words 'Dung' and 'lovely little pad' are synonymous with 'disaster' and 'smelly cow shed.'" She gave him a knowing look. "In fact, you were far too busy getting your knickers in a strop about Kingsley and Emmeline. What's the matter, don't you approve of mixing work and romance or something?"

"It's nothing like that." The words came out so quickly and hoarsely that he had to clear his throat and catch hold of himself. "It's just -" he broke off, realising he would very much like to know what she thought about her own question "- do _you _think it can work?"

She shrugged. "I went out with someone for a while when we both started Auror Training together. It didn't cause too many problems. I expect there was lots of gossip to start with about us, but people soon get bored, don't they?"

"I suppose." Remus felt sure the idea of him and Tonks as a couple would actually keep them talking for years and years. It was hardly fair to ask anyone to put up with that.

"Anyway," Tonks yawned widely, and stretched her arms above her head, then moved her shoulders irritably. "Anyway," she repeated and grimaced, her words speeding up notably, "I rather like thinking people are gossiping about my love life. For the right reasons, of course, as opposed to 'Poor Tonks, can't she get a date?' Which is the current, rather sad state of affairs, and that's the most stupid saying I could have used because the whole point is there's no affair. There's just a state." She paused, apparently for a very deep breath. "So do you know anyone who wants to make an offer, and who doesn't mind a girl who can sport custard yellow hair?"

Remus was so shocked at having the perfect opportunity presented to him in this fashion that he was hard put for several seconds to contain the desire to shout "Yes!" and punch the air as though he'd just caught the Snitch at some imaginary Quidditch game. An immense sense of relief flooded over him, but he reminded himself severely that the only time he _had_ ever caught a Snitch was on the infamous occasion when James deliberately rammed into Snape's broomstick, a free for all fight developed, and Remus and the Snitch had collided in mid-air while both were taking violent avoiding action.

It seemed sensible, therefore, to take his time, wondering whether to say he'd waited far too long for a girl who could accompany a perfect apple crumble, or whether he should just go for broke and say he'd loved to be saved by the skin of her custard.

He started to speak and then realised she was on her feet.

"You're not going out again, are you?" She was looking straight at the door.

"No!" She swung round quickly, and glowered at him. It would have been more convincing if she hadn't had a guilty looking flush on her cheeks at the same time.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Merlin, he'd thought she was struggling a bit with those sandwiches. And he was responsible for her shoulder hurting, without a doubt.

"I'm fine!" She sat down again, and looked at him defiantly. Her hand crept upwards towards her shoulder once more, and then stopped when she noticed his eyes were watching the movement.

"Tonks -"

"I've told you I'm fine!"

Remus began to realise for the first time ever that the word 'fine' could easily form an impenetrable wall. No wonder Sirius was always calling on him on it. He reached in the rucksack by his feet and wondered why he hadn't thought of this before.

Tonks was looking about her, and muttering under her breath. "I just need something to take my mind off things _-_"

The bar of Honeydukes' Finest Butterscotch Melt felt reassuringly solid underneath his fingers as he registered the irritable tone in her low voice, but not the actual words. At least it seemed that this Cooling Charm had held, without a problem. It was very strange how they wouldn't work in here …

"- and obviously _you're_ not going to do it for me -" She was still muttering, and massaging her shoulder.

Remus found the satsumas as well. They certainly wouldn't help an upset stomach so he'd take them home for that well-known gourmet of fine food, Buckbeak.

"- by picking up on my less than subtle hints about love lives, and lack thereof -"

The question was how to broach the subject of her health without embarrassing her further.

"- and as you probably don't approve of brazen hussies who ask men out -"

He suddenly realised he'd missed his chance to ask her out yet again, and it was so infuriating that this time he was hard pressed not to shout "No!" and thump something painfully. If only she'd just ask him herself, it would make life a whole lot easier. But that was really cowardly, and he must _stop _letting these moments pass him by as though he was completely oblivious to what was going on at the time.

"– I'm a bit stumped. In fact the only thing that would -"

She was almost certainly the sort of girl who liked to be asked. She didn't look or act remotely shy, but he'd noticed one or two things she seemed to be surprisingly traditional about. It was very endearing and sweet.

"- stop me being really pissed off right now, is either the bass guitarist of The Weird Sister's walking in here totally naked, or a large bar of -"

"Chocolate?" Remus held the bar out.

"- chocolate." Tonks sighed, and then looked properly at his hand. "Bloody hell, where did that come from?"

He smiled. "I always carry some in case of a medical emergency."

She grinned back. "I thought it was just to impress women."

"That's right. To impress women who are having a medical emergency. Erm," he whipped his hand away as she reached for it, "talking of which, how are you feeling, Tonks?"

"What?" She was still looking at the chocolate, but now she raised puzzled eyes to his. "I've told you, I'm fine."

He wasn't having this any longer. He slid along the protesting sofa until he was next to her, hesitated, and then said: "Look, we know each other really well now, don't we?"

Her face softened. "I hope so."

"You've seen me at my worst, the morning after a Transformation."

She was very still, gazing at him. "Yes, I have." Her lips twitched. "And you've seen me at my worst, too. Like when you saw me safely into bed in true gentlemanly fashion that night I went out to the Abba themed hen night and came home a bit worse for wear. All I can remember about it is telling you over and over what a _Super Trooper _you were, and trying to get you to _Voulez-vous_ with me."

He grinned. "It was the unusual rendition of _Dancing Queen_ that I will always treasure."

She grinned too. "'Young and sweet, only seventeen?'"

"Well I was more concerned at the time that you kept wanting me to feel the beat from your tambourine." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, the point is, I like to think we're very good friends, who trust each other."

"You're my best friend, Remus." She said it very simply and honestly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and he literally felt his heart turn over.

_Oh, God…_

His hand reached out automatically to take hers, and he stopped himself barely an inch away from the slim white fingers which were resting on her knee. In his mind he was back at Hogwarts, and three shadowy figures, two tall and one short, were waiting for him in the nearby trees as he emerged from the Shrieking Shack. He was recognising them with dawning horror as he blinked in the early morning sunlight, and knew there was nowhere to hide or any more lies left to tell. He was waiting for them to turn on him, and instead they all, one by one, pledged their friendship and their loyalty to him and to each other. But even that moment so long ago hadn't meant as much to him as this one now.

_He wasn't alone._

"In that case," he said, hoarsely, "I'm sure you can tell me when you've got a bad stomach."

The beautiful eyes were looking at him. A slight wrinkle appeared in her forehead. "What?" she said.

"Your stomach. We're colleagues, Tonks, as well as friends, and if you're feeling rough you need to tell me so we can do something about it. If I had a problem, I know I'd tell you, and it's obvious you're struggling and in some degree of discomfort. I don't expect me falling asleep on you has helped much."

"Right." She was nodding, thoughtfully. "Right. You're absolutely right, I _should _have told you. Especially about the struggling and the discomfort."

"So -" he started, relieved that she seemed to have taken it so well, but the words stuck in his throat as she leaned towards him, a slight smile on her lips. Her breath traced a path lightly across his jaw, the ends of the pink hair gently brushed against his cheek, and he caught a glimpse of a dark eye glinting at him briefly as she put her face next to his ear.

Her hand touched and then rested lightly on his bare arm.

"Remus." He could see – no_, feel_ – exactly how close her lips were to his ear. He wondered wildly if she'd consider whispering like this for the rest of the evening.

"It's not my stomach that's the problem."

As her soft words belatedly registered, he started to turn his head towards her, but she gave a breathy little laugh and gripped his arm tighter to stop him moving.

"_It's my bloody bra."_

He looked at her. She shifted back a bit and grinned at him, a dimple showing in her left cheek.

"Your bra?"

"Yeah, the stupid thing's killing me. It has been all night."

"Why don't you go and sort the problem out?" Remus knew he sounded slightly terse, but he felt he might laugh as hysterically as she'd done earlier if he wasn't careful. And he had the feeling that, for all her apparent bravado, she wasn't that far away from being embarrassed about something to do with this. He rather hoped his earlier suspicion that she'd worn it for his benefit, and not for this supposed visit to the night club, was a lot to do with it.

For his part, he was noting with wry amusement that, once again, the centre of attention was somehow back on her chest.

He just couldn't get away from it. Not that he particularly wanted to, of course.

"Look away for a minute, I think I might have broken it earlier when I was messing around with it," she said. He turned his head obediently as she stood up, checked there was still over an hour before the messenger was due to arrive, and then heard her say, "No, I've either broken the clasp, or it's welded together. I'll have to use magic."

"I'll do it," Remus heard his own voice say. He didn't remember it asking permission from his brain to speak. He was on his feet as well, reaching for his wand, and his brain was still lagging behind, saying_ hang on a minute, mate, this isn't like you…_

"Do what?" She was looking at him suspiciously.

"Sort your problem." He pushed his hair out of his eyes, and lifted his wand. "I know -"

"A useful little spell. Yeah, I just bet you do!" She put her hands on her hips, a movement which helped him appreciate no end just what he was planning on releasing. "Did Sirius or James teach you this too? Because you'll forgive me if I point out the last one didn't go that brilliantly?"

"Oh, I don't know. It did from where I was sitting." He grinned at her, enjoying the look of surprise, and feeling so incredibly relieved now he knew what was wrong with her and that it wasn't his fault. He knew he was showing off, and he knew he was flirting with her and, for goodness sake, wasn't this exactly why he'd come here tonight?

He even debated telling her that this was actually a spell he'd invented long ago – which had impressed Sirius and James no end, once they'd worked out how it could be used to affect groups or even a class - but thought if he did that she'd never call him a gentleman again. And he was no longer that boy, who'd laughed so carelessly with his friends.

He thought his younger self would heartily approve of this though.

"All it does is open everything that's metal and locked together. It was very useful for opening things with no keys, like boxes or ches-." He continued hurriedly. "And I know it works."

"Do you now?" She considered him for a second, her head on one side. "Oh, go on then. I'm sure this is going to be contrary in every way imaginable to the Code of Wand Use, and I should probably arrest you on the spot. But it's not as though I'll greatly miss it, whatever you do."

He laughed, heard the slight nervousness in it, and flicked his wand before he could change his mind. She gasped with surprise as she felt the clasp give, and automatically put her arms across her chest. Then, in true Tonks-style, she snorted with amusement and let her laughter out.

"_Don't _even bother apologising," she said, as he started to speak, "because I won't believe a word of it. In the immortal words of Abba, you did look young and seventeen when you did that, Professor Lupin, but sweet didn't come into it much! But I have to say, it was both very impressive, and -" she moved her shoulders experimentally "- a relief." She made a circular gesture with a finger at him. "Let's pretend you're a gentleman again for a minute while I get rid of the damn thing."

He turned obediently and waited.

"Okay." He turned back, and she was sat demurely on the sofa. "Now hand over that chocolate."

"But the medical emergency no longer exists," he said, and laughed as she Summoned the chocolate from his pocket, and broke a big piece off.

"Sorry the view's not as exciting now," she said indistinctly, with her mouth full, and passed the chocolate back to him.

Remus smiled. "I've got no complaints."

"And as we're now being so honest and sensible with each other," Tonks yawned, loudly, "I think it's only fair to say there is actually a small medical problem. I want to be awake when this messenger gets here, and not propping my lids open. No -" as he started to speak "- don't do the noble thing, and say you'll do it. All I'm asking for is an hour's nap. And you to wake me at the end of it, and I don't mean with a Tunawhacka."

"Can I -" Remus began.

"And _don't_ start giving me lectures on how I should have admitted this earlier." Tonks gave the impression she was either still chewing chocolate or trying not to grind her teeth.

"Can I -"

"Because I'm admitting it now, all right? I'm knackered. Friends shouldn't have to worry so much about trying to impress each other, and you were big enough to admit it earlier so I should be able to as well. Now what are you trying to say?"

Remus grinned, wondering if she realised what else she'd just admitted to. "Can I lend you my shoulder?"

"Oh." Tonks laughed, and drew her legs up on to the sofa. Without more ado, she laid her pink head on his shoulder, and he slipped his arm up and around her. She shifted around briefly and then shut her eyes.

"Comfy?" he said.

"Mmn." One dark eye opened fractionally and glinted at him through long lashes. "You'd better wake me, Lupin."

"I promise. I've got some thinking to do anyway."

The eye had shut again. "About Kingsley and Emmeline, and how appalling it all is?"

"Tonks." Remus squeezed her gently. "I really do wish them all the best, you know. I'd like it to work for them."

"Good." Her voice was pleased but drowsy. He watched as her face slowly relaxed and her breathing eventually deepened, and she snuggled into his arm with a trust and confidence that touched him in a way he didn't think possible. He thought how watching another human being sleep was perhaps the ultimate in intimacy, even more so than sex. You couldn't hide anything, or pretend anything. And now he didn't have to hide anything, either, as he watched her; least of all how very much he'd like to be the only person who ever saw her like this. The only person she'd trust with her deepest thoughts and dreams.

He turned his head a fraction and brushed his lips against her hair, so lightly that he knew she couldn't possibly feel him do so.

"I do wish them well, Tonks," he whispered. "But I'm sure they set us up."

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He woke her in the same way, almost an hour later, touching his lips to her hair and then, as she didn't stir, brushing his fingers very gently down the side of her face and marvelling at the softness of her skin. She shifted slightly, and her pale eyelids with the faint blue veins marbling them, fluttered almost resentfully before slowly opening. The dark eyes fixed on him for a long second and he saw, with astonishment, that there was now a swirling, ever-changing kaleidoscope of tawny brown, deepest mahogany and burnished copper fragments within them, glowing in their depths.

He felt his own widening in response, even as she blinked and was suddenly fully aware of where she was, and the thick lashes swept down like a curtain to shield them. Dull colour stained her throat and spread rapidly upwards.

She abruptly sat up and half-turned away from him, rubbing her hands over her face.

He twisted his wrist and glanced casually at his watch, a man who had seen nothing unusual. A man who had a thousand questions as well, none of which he could put voice to.

"Hope I didn't drool on you," she said, seemingly occupied now with smoothing her hair down with one hand, and then accentuating the spikes with the other. "I talk in my sleep as well occasionally, so I've been told."

"No worries," Remus said. He straightened his arm surreptitiously, and thought it was worth every cramped and aching muscle ten times over. "I didn't hear anything over the snoring."

"Well you'd know all about that," she said, her prompt reply at odds with the cautious, sideways glance she gave him through the pink hair. "I never knew what a great impersonation you did of the Hogwart's Express at full speed till recently."

He laughed, and after a second so did she, and the sudden tension that they were both aware of disappeared.

"Something's happening by the way," he said and moved to let her see for herself, as she quickly leaned forward. "I could see the light of a boat landing a few minutes ago down by the jetty, and there's faint movement down there as though someone's walking towards our street."

"Good job we cast that permanent Lumos on those street lamps," said Tonks, peering, "the visibility's not great, even with it."

"If we'd done it any brighter," said Remus, frowning at the scene below, "it would have been far too obvious, and I thought this messenger was supposed to be hard to miss anyway. Though bearing in mind the complete lack of accuracy in anything Kingsley and Emmeline have promised us so far tonight, I'm not really counting on a man in a bright yellow cloak, with the words _I'm A Death Eater!_ embroidered on the back, appearing any minute now. And, in fact …"

His voice tailed off.

"In fact," said Tonks, after a pause, "did anyone say 'man' at all? Or did we just assume that one?"

They both thought back, while staring at the extremely tall woman who was making her way towards the houses at the end of the row, her head almost level with the top of the street lamps.

"Part Veela, possibly," said Remus, looking at the long train of flaxen blonde hair, which seemed to end somewhere near her hips. "Very striking."

"Part Giant, probably." Tonks sniffed. "Very obvious. I bet she has terrible split ends. Probably can't even see them from up there."

The woman stopped in front of the third house from the end, looked around uncertainly, and then took out what seemed to be a piece of parchment. She turned the parchment sideways, then round the other way, and pushed her hair back from her face to study it.

"Oh for Merlin's sake," said Tonks with exasperation. "Typical Giant _and _typical blonde. What a great combination for a spy! Why doesn't she do a spell so the bloody Wizarding Route Finder can give her a hand?"

Remus grinned. "Why don't you pop down there and put an X on the door to help her out?"

"She'd probably still miss it. I bet she's got TGIF painted on her boots."

"TGIF?" Remus shot her a quick, bewildered look.

"Toes go in first." Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "Yes, that's right, dear! That's the one! The one you're stood right in front of! No, never mind about opening the gate, you just stride over it in that very unfeminine way, and squash all the flowers. Now knock on the flaming door, and give the secret password you probably can't remember, so we can all get to bed at some point tonight."

They watched as the door was swiftly opened by a small, dark figure that was only briefly glimpsed before being obliterated by the much larger one. A fairly avid discussion seemed to take place if the blonde's animated gestures were anything to go by.

"Told you she'd never remember. Probably got more than three letters in it."

"I think they're working out how she's going to get through a Muggle-sized doorway."

"Doubled over," Tonks said crisply, watching intently. "Oh dear, that must have hurt. Even I've never smashed my head and stepped on my hair at the same time."

"Ouch." Remus winced in agreement, as the blonde finally made it safely inside and the door closed firmly behind her.

They watched the door for a few minutes in silence, while Remus waited for Tonks to say the obvious, and then wondered if she was waiting for him.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "That would appear to be it."

"Yeah." Tonks seemed intent on staring at the house, with its one light burning in the front window. Perhaps she was lost in thought, imagining how the female messenger had managed to cram herself into it.

He tried again. "So we can send the signal to Dung to come and relieve us."

"Yeah."

"Then I can get to bed, Primrose can have her home back, and you can get to that club of yours."

"Yeah." Tonks bit her lip, while still seemingly transfixed on the scene below. "About that -" she said, suddenly.

Remus, who'd got up to cast a charm to open the shutters on the window in the roof, glanced back at her. He grinned to himself. No longer blocked, the window let a small but very welcome breeze filter in, and the air inside the barn seemed much fresher for it. There was a sprinkling of dim stars in the inky black sky, along with a recently full moon which he resolutely ignored. It was so very easy to think of happy memories and murmur, "_Expecto Patronum_."

He sent his Patronus in search of Dung, with a mental apology to the familiar silvery form as it sped off as he didn't want to imagine where it might have to go, and thought about the amazing shades of brown he'd seen in her eyes when she'd first woken and looked at him.

She was stood with her back to the wooden planks as he had earlier, leaning against them, and watching him in silence. It occurred to him that she'd never questioned him about his Patronus in all the times she'd seen it – and Tonks was nothing if not curious – but it appeared she had other things on her mind just now that were taking priority.

"About the club," she said abruptly.

"What," he asked, innocently, "the Innuendo Night Club you mentioned back at Grimmauld?"

"Yeah." Tonks did some more lip biting. "You see, I -"

"Has it still got that strobe lighting?" Remus didn't look at her, but walked over to the darkest corner where the cauldrons were stacked haphazardly on top of each other, and the box that they were supposed to open when the messenger had safely arrived lay on its side propped against the wall. It was more like a medium sized suitcase.

"_What?"_

"Very eighties, I always think." Remus bent down to examine the box more closely, mainly because he couldn't keep his face straight. "Especially with that spinning silver glitter globe in the middle that keeps raining Acid Pops down on you all night."

He heard her footsteps coming up behind him, and pretended to examine the lock. From the weight of the thing he thought he could make an educated guess as to what was inside. Kingsley and Emmeline, with Dung's all-too willing collusion, obviously intended to help them every step of the way, and while part of him was amused, a far bigger part was worried about how Tonks would react once she realised. He was also faintly embarrassed by being the object of anyone's match-making plans; having reasonably assumed that sort of thing had ended years ago at Hogwarts.

He turned to her. "Have you got that password?"

"Remus."

"We need to have a chat about that actually. I'll be very intrigued to see what yours is. If my suspicions are right -"

"_Remus!"_

He turned on his haunches, feeling the grin spreading across his face, and completely unable to do anything about it. She was glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

"I should hex you into next week," she said. "I don't suppose you're going to explain to me how you happen to know the Innuendo Club so well?"

"Perhaps later." He raised an eyebrow at her, and pushed his hair out of his eyes, while trying to stop himself laughing. "If you beg me. And if you're not in too much of a hurry to rush off there, of course, and see how many wizards are wearing those lovely florescent green shirts that seem to be the prevailing fashion."

"Let's just open the damn box, shall we?" She looked as if she was trying to sound annoyed, but he suspected otherwise as she squatted down next to him and ducked her head so that her hair fell forward and he couldn't see her expression. "_Then _you can see if you can persuade me to abandon my social plans for the rest of the evening in order to listen to one of your no doubt boring stories."

He wished the light were better so her face wasn't in so much shadow. "How do you rate my chances?"

"Not bad." She was unsealing the piece of parchment she'd taken from her pocket. "If you beg me. But you'll have to - oh, Merlin, you've _got_ to be joking!"

Remus smiled. "Let me guess. Emmeline decided to be as witty as Kingsley."

"Worse." Tonks nodded miserably.

"It can't be worse than his."

"Apparently Emmeline's just full of surprises tonight." Remus was taken aback at the sarcasm in Tonks' voice. She must have worked out that they'd been set up now, so was she simply annoyed at being made a fool of, or was it because _he_ was the person they'd set her up with?

He tried to bring some levity back to proceedings. "I might die of curiosity if I don't hear it."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about curiosity." She scrunched the parchment up tightly in her fist.

"It never killed a werewolf?" he offered hopefully, and then, when she didn't respond, added, "Have you got to read yours out slowly and clearly too?"

"There's something at the bottom, I can't see." Tonks started to reach for her wand, but Remus murmured quickly under his breath, and opened his hand with a small flame burning in it.

"Show off," Tonks said, still sounding subdued, but she straightened out the parchment and nodded. "Yep, I've got to say it slowly too. Because it's just so very funny thinking of Remus and Tonks being embarrassed by silly passwords, isn't it? I bet they're rolling on the floor, laughing themselves stupid right now at the very thought of it all."

"Tonks -" he started, the fire trembling slightly in his hand, but she looked straight at him, the light and shadows playing across her face, and he almost caught his breath at how young and lovely she looked.

_And how forlorn …_

"Older. Men. Do. It. Longer." She emphasised the words slowly and carefully, holding his gaze, and then said crisply, "Rather a giveaway as she's older than Kingsley. Perhaps they were running out of bright ideas at that point."

Remus didn't think they had somehow, in fact he'd put money he didn't have on the fact they were only just getting into their stride, but he had more immediate concerns. The box had clicked open to reveal that it was bursting with bottles of everything a very serious and non-discerning drinker like Dung could require. There even seemed to be several pouches of tobacco thrown in for good measure, presumably in case they thought clouds of green smoke would add to the romantic atmosphere. He didn't care about either. The flame disappeared as he closed his hand, and slammed the lid firmly down.

"Tonks." He sat down on top of the box and looked down at her, but she was staring at the parchment.

"How bloody ridiculous." She sat down heavily next to him, and scrunched the password up in her hand again before letting it drop to the floor between their feet.

"No, actually, it's been proved true." He smiled, but she didn't respond to the feeble joke, and his heart sank. "Look, I'm sorry if this has upset you – it's my fault."

"How can it be your fault?" She smacked the side of the box with her hand, and the bottles inside clanked in protest. "God, I'm such a fool."

All available words seemed to be sticking in Remus' throat. "It is my fault," he said, hoarsely, "I let people guess that I liked you and -"

"_I wanted it to be real, Remus." _Her shadowed face turned to face him, and he could hear the anguish in her voice. "I wanted to believe they meant it. Even while I was thinking that never in a million, billion years would Kingsley fancy Emmeline, or vice versa; even then, I made myself believe it because I wanted to."

_Why?_

Her words were so unexpected that, instead of asking the obvious question, it was easier to talk himself into wilfully misunderstanding the direction she was heading in, and planning how he could direct the conversation along those lines. _Are you upset because we were set up? Are you embarrassed by it? Are you thinking of a way to let me down gently? _All to delay the moment when he'd have to ask, because once he did he was going to change things between them for ever by stepping over the friendship line.

"You didn't though, did you?" There was bitterness as well as anguish there now. "You didn't believe it for a second, and I really wanted you to."

_Why? _

He so nearly said it this time, but this time the darkness stopped his tongue because he couldn't see her face. Instead, he said: "I did at first, though I was surprised because - well, Emmeline told you there was _rapport_ between them, but I hadn't seen any signs of it. I knew I'd been tired and I thought I might have missed it, but something didn't seem to add up." He smiled. "There's no way Emmeline's a saucy little minx, for a start. She's at least five foot nine."

He also thought, but didn't add, that it had occurred to him to wonder if he'd been so busy thinking about himself and Tonks for hours on end that the entire Order could have paired off under his nose, and he'd have been completely oblivious. He'd always thought Dedalus and Hestia would make an interesting couple.

"Yeah," said Tonks dully. "Totally obvious, wasn't it? I knew it too, I just wanted it …"

Her voice trailed off, and she propped her elbows on her knees, and buried what looked like a very heavy head in her hands.

He couldn't bear it, he murmured the words again, and the flame sprung to life in his hand. She turned her head slowly to look at him, and the dark eyes met his with the reflection of the flame burning within them.

Remus took a breath. It was like a sharp pain. "Why?" he said.

She didn't hesitate. "You _know _why."

"Tell me."

There was no hesitation again, and his heart went out to her bravery, which was so much greater then his. "Because of you. Because of us. Because I thought if another Order pair, another _unconventional_ pair got together, it would encourage you to give us a chance so we stopped this stupid pussy-footing around each other. I thought it would give you a kick up the backside." Her lips twitched. "And me, as well."

He swallowed. "Is that what you think we are? Unconventional?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't really care about things like that. But that's what you think. That's what you think everyone else thinks, and you're wrong."

"Am I?"

She tilted her head back in irritation and rolled her eyes. _"Remus._" To his complete amazement, she muttered a few words and then, before he realised what she was going to do, closed her hand swiftly over his with the flame between them. Her fingers threaded through his, even as he tried to momentarily withdraw them in shock at what she'd done.

"Why do you think they set us up if they don't think we should be together?"

He tried to smile, but he couldn't take his eyes off their clasped hands, the glow of the flame still visible, though starting to fade. He could feel the tendrils of cold growing and spreading, and knew what she'd done. How she'd matched him, just as she always did. And the sensations that were now spreading through him, causing his heart to race and his breathing to quicken, confirmed what he'd known all along, but only finally admitted to himself while she slept in his arms - that he'd spent all night hesitating about asking her for a single date because things had gone way beyond that for him a long time ago.

He wanted far, far more from her.

_Was it too much to hope she could possibly want that much from him as well?_

The slim fingers tightened on his, and he felt his own respond without conscious thought. The fusion of heat and cold was causing his hand to tingle, running up his arm like a wire. Her touch spoke of mystery and wonder, and he had to stop a mad impulse to pull her towards him and find out just what kind of magic this was.

He swallowed hard. "It's not just because they're interfering idiots who won't mind their own business?"

"That's only the annoying part of it." She was watching their hands, a frowning line of concentration on her brow. He could feel a solitary drop of water starting to slowly make its way down the side of their palms.

"Tonks -"

"Don't you think we've got a rapport?" The tiny glow was still on her face, making her lips look fuller and her eyes even darker.

The drop of water fell on the floor and he watched another appear.

"I think we're close, yes."

He saw the glint of white teeth as her lips parted, her voice much huskier than normal. "Define 'close' for me."

"Well we enjoy a game of Exploding Snap together …"

He gave up resisting the impulse and stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb, feeling it tremble in response against his. Water was trickling down both their wrists now as the ice melted, and he felt the shudder go through her, at the same time as the tingling touch of her own fingers and the mixture of warmth and cold made him shudder too. He didn't want that touch to ever leave him. He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to pull her down next to him, not caring in the slightest about the filthy floor, and cover her mouth with his own until they were both breathless.

_Define close … _

He thought about saying what he really thought it meant. What he really wanted. _Her body arching with pleasure against his. Tasting the soft warmth of her skin. Tangling his fingers in her hair. Licking the hollow between her breasts where he'd seen the sweat run earlier. Hearing her moan his name against his ear._

"Tonks," he said, with sudden urgency.

"Mmm?" The flame had long extinguished, but he thought the gaze she turned on him was hazy and unfocused.

"I don't think I've got my timing right all night, but -"

"There's no time like now time," said Tonks vaguely, her hand clasping his fiercely. "So you were saying?"

There was a crash above them as something seemingly collided with the roof, and then clattered noisily into the shutters of the window. They shot apart and leapt to their feet as a large grey shape half-fell, half-flew into the barn, turned in a small and dizzying circle, and finally flopped in a heap at their feet.

"Lumos!" Tonks said, her wand out-stretched, and they gazed in silence at the large owl breathing heavily on the floor in front of them with its feet in the air. A message was clamped between one quivering foot.

"Bollocks," said Tonks, after a long pause, where the only sound to be heard was that of the panting bird.

"Yes, it is rather." Remus nodded politely in agreement, and clenched his fist till the nails dug into his palm as the final drops of water ran through his fingers.

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Thank you to all those who have reviewed so far because reviewers really are the loveliest, nicest people, and entitled to choose between falling asleep on Remus, perhaps having a night out at the Innuendo Night Club, which he knows so well, or indulging in a spot of tingling hand-holding with him. Failing that, you can chat about his and your definition of "close..."


	5. Having the Time of Your Life

**Chapter Four**

**Having the Time of Your Life**

It was _crap_ timing.

A fish and chip craving before duty with Mad-Eye had nothing on this.

Well -- except for the fishy smell. Apart from lacking that finer detail, everything else seemed determined to be a right load of squid.

"Probably shouldn't be surprised we've got bird droppings," Tonks muttered, trying to contain her annoyance, frustration, and an intense desire to shake something within an inch of its life.

Really, she shouldn't be surprised at all. It was just her luck that as soon as she bared her soul, and got Remus on the brink of asking her for a date that was more elusive than a Death Eater in an Invisibility Cloak, everything would go sh--

"Is it _dead_?" She interrupted her own thoughts. The owl's chest had stopped heaving.

Remus dropped to a crouch. "Dead tired."

Leaning over his shoulder, Tonks saw that it was breathing, albeit shallowly. "Poor thing."

"Especially since Dung shouldn't be using owls to communicate at all," Remus said tightly, while embarking on a tug-of-war to persuade the owl to release its seemingly frenzied grip on the parchment.

"He's got dung for--Oh for the love of Merlin!" She recoiled as Remus unrolled the parchment. "Did he rub the bloody letter on the floor of another cowshed?"

"It smells distinctly like Padfoot and Prongs after a night at the Shrieking Banshee."

"Just don't tell me Dung's tied up in a Dublin bar. Because I really will have to think about the most painful ways to kill him."

"The owl couldn't have flown that far. But somewhere similar, I've no doubt. Light, please?"

Tonks held her wand over Remus' shoulder, but though the deep blue glow illuminated the parchment he was holding gingerly with the tips of his fingers, she still couldn't make out the spidery hand-writing. Remus studied it for some time with a cocked eyebrow and a grim expression, which really should have made the parchment shrivel up and turn to ash. He looked even more tired than before he'd had a nap on her chest, and the lines around his mouth were very noticeable again.

"What does it say?" she asked, through the tiny gap that her clenched teeth had left available.

"_Onoured guesses_," Remus read in a perfect imitation of Dung's accent that would have been hilarious in any other context. "_Please to make yourselfs at 'ome in me an' Primrose's 'umble abode, an' 'elp yourselfs to our 'ospitality._"

"Like he's running a bleeding bed and breakfast!" Tonks cried.

"That appears to be precisely what he does think." Clearing his throat, Remus read on: "_Leave your payment to restock the whiskey and tobacco stash in the box on the wall_."

"Whiskey! Is he _really _such a sodding idiot that he thinks you and I'd drink on the job?"

"_I'll even offer a fifty per-cent discount on the usual fee, as I'm havin' a spot o' bother with the Muggle pleece, who've mistook me for Ormerod Rutter_--"

"The antiques dealer?" Tonks interrupted. "Ormerod Rutter's wanted in seven counties, because his so-called antiques are about as genuine as those fake wands Fred and George make. Even the Aurors are supposed to keep an eye out for him, in case he gets his hands on--" Realisation struck, and she gripped her wand tighter. "Wait. We're not…Dung can't mean…We're stuck here all night?"

"He's not coming to relieve us," said Remus, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "and, strangely, seems to think he's doing us a favour by leaving us here."

"_What?"_ It came out as nearly a scream which, Tonks thought, was highly appropriate.

"_Don' worry 'bout safety_." Remus started to read again and gave a low, mirthless laugh. "Well we are certainly relieved to have that reassurance from you, Mungdungus. Though I don't actually recall worrying about that much in these circumstances, do you?"

"Why does he think we're so secure?" Tonks leant further over his shoulder and screwed up her eyes which seemed to help slightly with the translation, "_No one dast come near Primrose Byre -- the shite smell's me own permanent security charm. Though me, I don' mind it. Earthy-like._" She snorted. "Maybe the Order ought to adopt it for number twelve instead of Fidelius. Can you imagine my snooty relatives going anywhere near this filth?"

"Please don't mention it to Dung," Remus said. "I've got to live there, and I don't fancy any more nights like this."

Tonks fell back from him a step.

He only meant the smell. He was just tired and frustrated.

But if he'd only picked up on her bloody obvious hints sooner, he wouldn't be frustrated. And neither would she …

"_Drink what ye like, it'll 'elp make the evenin' go with a bang,_" Remus read, "_and remember ye aint drunk enough if ye can bend over w'thout spillin' it out yer mouth." _

His lips twisted in a sardonic grin as he crumpled the parchment, dropped it on the floor, and gestured to the case he'd been sat on. "If you'd like to attempt getting drunk as per Dung's recommendation, I'm sure his security measures will make it safe for me to watch for the messenger on my own. Or…"

The lines on his face deepened, and his hair seemed greyer as he turned to her, not quite meeting her eyes.

Very softly, he said, "Or you could still go to the Innuendo."

Tonks' heart hammered. The fire…the ice… How could he think she'd leave now? After what she knew they'd both felt and wanted.

"Mundungus Fletcher might leave a partner alone on a job," she said in low, deliberate tones, "but _I'm_ a total professional."

"Of course you are," said Remus, swiftly getting to his feet, "but--"

"But nothing." Tonks drew a deep breath, reined in her temper, and smiled. A bit stiff, and a bit grimace-like, but it was a smile, nonetheless. "I'm staying right here and helping you figure out how we're going to get back at Dung."

The lines on Remus' forehead had vanished. "Do you think my Marauder days are so far gone," he said, lips twitching against a grin, "that I can't plot a decent revenge myself?"

Tonks folded her arms across her chest and met his gaze levelly. "I think you can plot better revenge with me. _As your partner_."

His expression softened as he allowed himself to grin fully. "We've plotted pretty well together in the past, haven't we? Your scheme to get the Dursleys out of their house so we could get Harry…" His smile widened as his eyes held hers. "Sheer brilliance."

The approval and admiration in his eyes -- and the darkening of something suddenly more intense and personal -- was the same look he'd worn that day. Tonks was sure that if there were any plates to be found in Primrose Byre, she wouldn't have a hope of not smashing them to smithereens if she so much as moved a muscle.

"W-We make a great team," she stammered.

"We do, and I enjoy working with you." The moment of connection was broken when Remus frowned suddenly, and turned his attention to the owl. Kneeling again, he said, "Hand me one of those Firewhiskey bottles, please, Tonks?"

She Summoned one from the case, but withheld it from Remus. What game was he playing at now? Why had he backed away once more from the issue of _them_?

"I'm disappointed," Tonks said, in what she hoped was a coy way or, much more usefully, one that would at least get some answers. "Sirius plotting drunk revenge, I can believe. You struck me as pretty brilliant without undue influence."

Remus gave her a slightly pained look. "It's for the _owl_," he said, as though it were as obvious as the fact that Snape needed a shower and one of those specialist treatment shampoos. Though Tonks had often thought that even oven cleaner might struggle.

She crouched beside him, a feat of great skill in her high heels, and which she didn't pull off without wobbling into his shoulder and leaning against him. Deciding she might as well stay there as it was a shame to waste the opportunity, she said, "Poor thing's knackered, and now you want to get it drunk, too?"

"Hagrid," said Remus, taking the bottle from her hands, "in his capacity as Care of Magical Creatures teacher, told me a small amount will revive almost anything."

"Oh," said Tonks absently, as she watched the elegant hands and long fingers gently prising open the owl's beak and tilting the bottle to pour in a drop.

He was really fascinating to watch. So competent and precise.

Pity the same couldn't be said for his timing.

She hadn't known owls could cough till this one emitted a bizarre sound more suited to an Augurey -- or Madam Pince -- than to an owl. The wings convulsed, and the legs twitched in the most undignified fashion.

Noticing Remus' eyes widening in apparent concern, Tonks couldn't resist nudging him with her elbow. "That's the same Hagrid who raises dragons and giant spiders and is always a reliable source of information?"

"The very one," said Remus cheerfully as the owl rocked itself into a standing position. "There you are!"

The owl looked around bemusedly, blinking in a dazed fashion, and turned its head three hundred and sixty degrees clockwise, and then back the other way at speed. This clearly helped it decide it wanted to be anywhere but where it currently was. It woozily flapped its wings, seemed to give what sounded like an embarrassed belch, and took off in an unconventional, and not entirely convincing, zigzagging flight path.

"Well," said Remus as it flew out through the shutters, narrowly missing banging its head as it went, "I think I shall be able to tell Hagrid that was a resounding success."

"What about that poor sparrow it just crashed into?"

"It should have been looking where it was going."

"Talking of looking…" Tonks' gaze went back to the peephole in the wall. "We've got to get back to our post so we won't miss Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons going home from her delightful evening date."

She flopped onto the sofa, sinking almost to the floor as the flimsy cushions gave underneath her. The fresh air wafting through the peephole only made the stench in the barn more oppressive, and her sweat-dampened clothing felt decidedly itchy. "Can you believe we're really stuck here all night?"

"With Dung assigned to relieve us, yes, absolutely. I should have seen it coming." Remus stood at the end of the sofa, fingers picking at the tatty arm. "I really will hex him to next week if we don't finish up here in time to see Harry off to his trial."

"It could take blondie that long to deliver her message and find her way out the door again."

Remus looked at her. "You really don't have to stay. You could go and make sure you see Harry--"

"He'd rather see you than me."

"I'm not leaving."

"Neither am I," Tonks said, trying not to think that maybe he _wanted _her to leave, because he didn't want to act on these feelings between them. She looked away and, spying Dung's crumpled letter on the floor, grabbed for it.

"_Leave your payment_, my arse," she said, trying the screwed up eye method of reading again. "Really, if I weren't such a mature and professional person, I'd chew all the tobacco and drink all the Firewhiskey, then leave one of those cow pats in the box."

Remus gave a husky chuckle as he sat down. "Why don't we Transfigure the tobacco to gum, swap the Firewhiskey for sea water, and leave a chocolate galleon?"

"And leave a really insulting note full of big words Dung'll never understand."

"He'll think it's a great compliment." Remus watched her for a moment. "You're quite fond of the misleading missive, aren't you?"

It was the second time he'd referred to the Advance Guard, but despite that and his tone of admiration, Tonks shrugged. "It's probably a better talent for criminals than law enforcement officers."

She brushed a drooping bit of fringe back from her forehead, then clutched it tightly it between her fingers to spike it again.

"Of course diversionary tactics are essential skills for Aurors," said Remus. "And Order members."

Extending his hand to her, he opened his fingers. Tonks stared. They really were lovely. So slender and deft and clever… There probably wasn't much he couldn't do wandless, yet he had such flair when he did use his wand, giving those effortless, almost lazy, little flicks. And his touch was so feather-light.

She allowed her eyes to close as she relived the moment of the fire and ice, afraid they might change at the mere memory of his touch. She'd felt them go when she'd woken to find him holding her. Had he noticed? There had been nothing in his expression to indicate anything odd happening on her face, but then he was so good at giving nothing away.

He smiled slightly, and she felt the parchment slide gently between her fingers as he pulled it away.

"Just think of this as honing those skills," Remus said. "Not that yours need it."

"But I only came up with the idea," said Tonks. "You were the smart one who made it sound convincing."

"I'm so pleased you've faith in my ability to pull over a prank on Mundungus Fletcher." The blue eyes twinkled, lines criss-crossing at the corners. But then, rather business-like, he asked, "Shall we get to it, then?"

He reached into his pocket and drew out a quill, then spread Dung's letter on his leg to write on the opposite side of the parchment.

"Dubious host," Tonks suggested.

Lips curved in a mischievous smirk, Remus wrote her words in his neat, meticulous script.

Trying to ignore her current obsession with his hands, his sexily focused expression, and the rather worrying speed of her pulse rate, Tonks said, "Reckon Dung'll even know that's English writing, as opposed to his chicken scratchings?"

Remus glanced at her sideways, that eyebrow raised slightly in amusement. "It certainly seems distinctly out of character that he should know what joined up writing is. I think we need lots of words starting with H, because he won't recognise it."

They filled the parchment -- and a good half hour -- with what they mutually agreed was the most eloquent sarcasm ever produced in the Wizarding world, closing it, "Perspiringly and pungently yours."

"Partners in crime once again," said Tonks, signing her name next to Remus' with a pink flourish.

She looked up, smiling, and was entirely unprepared for the seriousness of his expression.

"What if Kingsley and Emmeline really were a couple?" Remus asked, very quietly, his eyes shifting away from hers.

Relief washed through Tonks, even as an equal amount of dread surged against it. On one hand, he'd hesitated to go forward with her because he had issues he wanted to work out first. On the other hand, he had issues that wouldn't let him go forward with her. Somehow she knew it wasn't just a simple matter of convincing him that none of it mattered.

Drawing her legs up, trying for the humorous approach, she said, "I reckon they'd go on dates and hold hands, you know, like normal couples, and maybe even snog, though I can't quite imagine Emmeline doing anything at all like that…" She stopped and _really_ wished she hadn't made those dominatrix remarks earlier. She cleared her throat. "I'm sure they would do what all couples in a relationship do. Have dates, over-analyse everything each other says and does, decide this is your soul mate, and then realise that he or she can't be because they think The Weird Sisters are rubbish, and sprouts are their favourite food."

"No," said Remus with a shaky laugh, touching her elbow gently with the tips of his fingers. "I mean -- would it have mattered that they're so different?"

His touch was sending a slow shiver up her arm and into her spine. She felt far from casual, but shrugged indifferently. "They say opposites attract."

"Would the age difference have mattered?" he blurted. More softly, he added, "They didn't even attend school together."

"Wouldn't that be weirder? Going out with someone who was a seventh year when you were just starting? I mean, I could never be interested in Bill Weasley, because I can't think about him without remembering him as the prefect and Head Boy who gave me all the detentions that kept me from making prefect myself. Plus I like to wear the ponytail myself in a relationship, of course."

"I'd never have had the heart to give you a detention," said Remus with a grin, and Tonks didn't think he quite realised his fingers were lightly stroking her elbow.

Until he removed his hand and put it rather firmly on his thigh. "So, in your expert opinion, it's better to date someone significantly older than just a little older?"

"Right. Not that I've a wealth of experience…"

_Oh bugger. Brilliant way to convince him age isn't a thing. _

"But I think so, anyway," she went on quickly. "It's logical. Was Kingsley in your year?"

"Two behind. Maybe three."

"If I had to guess which of you was younger, I'd pick you every time."

Remus gave a little start, and his eyes went almost comically round. As a grin started, and slowly spread, he ducked his head down, which made his fringe fall boyishly into his eyes. "You're just being nice so I'll watch your back if the Blonde Bigfoot decides to bring her date to Primrose Byre."

"Or," said Tonks, leaning toward him, unable to resist that bashful look, "I'm calling you _immature_ and you're taking it as a compliment."

Holding up their prank note to Dung, Remus chuckled. "I'd better carry out that threat to turn Dung's tobacco to gum if I'm to hold that place in your mind. Though, if I were you, I wouldn't tell Kingsley that even with his earring, you think he looks older than a grey-haired man."

"He didn't shave his head just because he thought it looked cool, you know. And I think the earring was a mid-life crisis."

"We're wizards. Our thirties are _not _midlife."

"He seems older because he's so much more serious than you are." She laughed at the juxtaposed images of Kingsley's earring and Emmeline's shawl. "I really can't picture two people who'd look funnier together. Imagine their photographs." Sliding back to recline against the sofa arm, Tonks watched Remus from over her knees, and imagined theirs instead. "How'd they pull that one over on us?"

"Mad-Eye would banish us from the Order in disgrace if he knew we were that un-vigilant." Remus smiled, but she noticed he hadn't quite answered the question. "They can't have known that this place really was a cow shed, though. Knowing Dung, this probably is his warped idea of the perfect romantic setting and, after all, he could sell a chocolate teapot to anyone if he really wanted to. I'm still surprised Kingsley fell for it, but then I did for a little while."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Imagine, people thinking _we _need help getting together. As if."

"The cheek of it," Remus agreed. Tugging at his collar, he said, "But I believe we were discussing the hypothetical romance between Kingsley and Emmeline."

Tonks wondered why talking this out seemed so important to him. What reassurance was he looking for now? She thought she'd dismissed the age problem with the contempt it deserved.

"_Discussing_ is the thing, isn't it?" his voice softly broke into her thoughts. "Emmeline and Kingsley aren't even a couple, yet we were quick to gossip about them."

"Not gossip, exactly." How she wished she could relive that conversation under the Invisibility Cloak when she'd let her tongue run on and on, without thought to what she was actually saying.

"Talk then. People _do _talk."

"Yeah." She grinned and shrugged. "Well it is fun."

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment. "I daresay it would be very nice to have people talk about me for a reason other than the obvious."

Nice? Tonks knew she'd be thrilled to bits to hear Molly go on about what a lovely person Remus was, and to see the approval that _she _was the lucky girl who'd struck his fancy. But when she glanced up at Remus to see if she could read similar thoughts in his expression, his eyes held a far-off expression.

"You mean the obvious reason that you're very popular and everybody likes you?" Tonks said.

He gave her a look of gratitude, but it was fleeting. "I'm not that popular at full moon." He glanced away from her and went on quickly, before she could interrupt. "What if they broke up? Would there be hard feelings? Would other people take sides?"

"We're not a lot of teenagers," said Tonks, surprising herself with the exasperation in her tone. Thinking it might be best to work out her frustration physically; she rose and grabbed a bottle from the case of Firewhiskey. She uncorked it, tapped it with her wand, and watched with immense satisfaction as a cascade of multi-coloured bubbles erupted from it and gently floated off in all directions. There was a movement behind her, and she saw that Remus had unfolded his tall, slim frame, and selected a bottle for himself. Without taking out his wand, he Vanished the contents, and paused to gaze at the label on the bottle as though it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

"What if _we _go out?"

Tonks nearly dropped the bottle in her hand. Remus turned back to her with the faintest of smiles.

"What if we go out," he repeated, "but it doesn't work between us? What happens to partners in crime?" He paused for a split second, stepped closer, and murmured, "What happens to best friends? We could ruin that forever."

His eyes were so intense that Tonks had no hope of being able to break contact. Not that she wanted to. Not ever. Not when he showed her this vulnerable side she knew without a doubt he had not shown anyone else for a long time. Not when she wanted to show him everything in return. And for a moment she felt his fear – reflected in a shiver down her own spine -- that if this didn't work out between them, she would lose someone and something that meant so very much to her.

But that feeling fled as a warmer one crept all over her. She was as important to him as he was to her. And he was wrong to be so afraid; armed with that knowledge, she just had to show him there was nothing to fear.

"What if the reason we work so well together is _because_ we like each other so much?" Tonks stepped towards him. She saw him suck in his breath, and bubbles gently floated between them. "Isn't that the reason we're here in the first place? Something like that isn't easy to lose."

Remus' free hand moved, and Tonks held her breath as the backs of his fingers stroked her cheek. His eyes looked almost as dark as hers were (oh Merlin, she hoped they were still dark) as they searched her face.

The palm of his hand touched her lightly as his curled fingers stretched toward her hair. He seemed about to open them to caress her face, when he instead withdrew his hand entirely.

"Was that what happened with the Auror you dated?"

Tonks blinked, and an odd bleary, tingling sensation coursed through her. She dropped onto the sofa, still clutching the bottle.

"Julian and I were one of those instant attraction things." Noting a deep frown etching Remus' features as he levitated the case to settle next to her on the sofa, Tonks quickly went on, "I was the only girl in the training program that year. And he was the only one not up his own backside."

Remus tapped another bottle, and looked perplexed when the cork turned into a balloon, and the contents inflated as they bubbled up as brightly coloured rubber. "What was your spell?"

"That's a secret," Tonks said, surprised and pleased that he'd tried to figure hers out. "I think I like yours better."

Remus waved his wand as a rainbow of balloons wafted toward the rough beam ceiling, Vanishing them before they could pop. The next few minutes were silent as Remus worked to reproduce her spell. He got it on the second attempt, and grinned at Tonks through the shimmer of bubbles. "Very clever."

"That's why it didn't work with Julian," Tonks watched one of the pink bubbles burst as it hit the roof. "It was always a competition between us."

"You mean on the job?"

"He hated that I didn't have to work at Concealment and Disguise. Took it up with Scrimgeour once or twice. Said it wasn't fair for me to morph instead of using Appearance Charms."

The straight line of Remus' mouth gave absolutely nothing away. Pushing his fringe back from his forehead, he said, "I thought you said romance didn't cause too many problems for work."

"That was true. But work caused too many problems for romance," Tonks admitted, not able to meet his eyes. "I thought he was just nervous about making the junior Auror cut. And I couldn't blame him. If I were struggling with tricky spellwork whilst someone else just scrunched up her face, I'd be right jealous, too."

Eyebrow still arched, Remus asked, "Did Julian get over it?"

"Oh yeah. He realised I might fail Stealth and Tracking, and he was ace at those." Tonks couldn't keep a hint of bitterness out of her voice. "He ran me down for being clumsy."

Fighting the annoyance she always felt toward herself when she thought about how she'd handled that relationship, she said, "I didn't even break up with him then. I don't know, I was stupid, but I thought it was just a work thing. Especially when he asked me for a normal date, dancing at a club."

"At the Innuendo?"

_Damn her for letting Sirius wind her up, and damn Remus for having such a bloody one-track mind._

"Yes, the Innuendo," Tonk said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. "I showed off my two left feet, and Julian kept ogling this tall blonde, not unlike our friend down there. When I tripped and spilt Flaming Firewhiskey on her dress, if you can call something that skimpy a dress, he accused me of doing it on purpose. _Then _I broke up with him, because I knew he was going to end it with me anyway, and I wanted to at least get the upper hand there." She paused for breath, thinking that as all else had failed, she hadn't got anything to lose with brutal honesty.

"The only thing that stopped me from hexing his balls off was our professional relationship. So maybe it was a good thing we were involved, after all."

"Except in that case, competition wouldn't have been a factor," Remus said evenly.

"I don't know." With a sigh, Tonks slouched against the back of the sofa. "I've dated a few blokes since, and I think a lot are put off by the Auror thing. Mum warned me about fragile male egos when I applied. She said I might have to kiss goodbye to all hopes of ever…" Her face went red hot. Oh bloody Merlin, she'd nearly said_ getting a husband._ "Of scoring a date."

Remus said nothing, he seemed to be engrossed again in turning a bottle of Firewhiskey into something which looked like green slime.

"Looks like she's right," Tonks said, turning away, peering outside at the darkness, and wishing so much that she could find the right words to reach him. "I can't blame wizards for not going for the whole bossy career woman thing."

"They must be mad."

The sofa wobbled as she jerked involuntarily.

"I don't think you're bossy," he went on, his voice so low she had to strain to hear. "You're very capable, and very clever, and I love to watch you work." He swallowed. "It's captivating. Like … you."

_Captivating_.

Interesting thing to say to an Auror. A wonderful thing to say to a girl. She'd never imagined anyone would use such a word when it came to her, in either capacity.

Tonks turned to him. He looked as if his heart were in his throat, half-dreading her reaction.

"You know none of that competition stuff's a problem for Order members who want to date, right?" she asked. "No one's vying for rank or raises, and in some cases…"

She tapped her wand on the Firewhisky bottle. Party streamers shot out noisily from it and draped themselves over the rafters overhead.

"In some cases," she repeated, replaying _captivating _over and over in her head and wanting to grin like an idiot, "we're only too keen to impress each other."

"Pair of show offs," Remus nodded in agreement, the green slime now raining down on the floor by her feet as a flurry of brightly coloured confetti. She noticed it was shaped in the letters T and R, and bit her lip to stop herself laughing.

"But we never try and top each other."

"No," said Remus softly, looking at her in a way that made her heart race, exactly as he had looked with the fire and ice clasped between their entwined hands. "We always match."

Here they were.

This was it. At last.

_Finally_, Remus had his reassurance. She'd won the professor over with logic.

Well, she hadn't got all those NEWTs for nothing.

"I'm sorry you were treated that way," Remus said. "I…"

He set the case of Firewhiskey bottles on the floor, and slid closer to her. Once again he stretched his arm on the edge of the sofa, and as he met her gaze, Tonks leant back and tried not to worry about whether her eyes were changing again. She could feel the slightly ticklish sensation, which was normally a warning sign when they were on the verge of doing so.

"If it makes you feel any better," Remus said at last, "I've had my share of dating disasters of the clumsy variety."

"You don't strike me as the clumsy sort. Not remotely." Tonks smiled, trying to appear relaxed. "And I'm an expert on the subject."

Remus grinned. "Can you believe hesitant, awkward, and utterly lacking in any sense of timing?"

"Now that I can believe," said Tonks, laughing. "So what's an awkward Remus dating disaster?"

His eyes darted away. "I've got to tell?"

"I confessed all!"

Remus' fingers just touched her shoulder. "All right, if I must. In sixth year, I was, um, kissing a girl in a, erm, handy broom cupboard--"

"Sixth year! But you were a prefect!"

"Girls like badges." The blue eyes glinted at her. "Must be like uniforms."

Tonks folded her arms over her chest. "And they had the nerve to say _I_ lacked certain necessary qualities."

"I thought the door was shut -- and locked," Remus said, corners of his eyes and lips crinkled, looking as if he were trying very hard not to laugh, "but when we leant against it--"

"Who was shoving who, and didn't know their own strength?" Tonks waggled her eyebrows.

Remus ignored her, though he grinned. "--the door popped open, and we fell out into the corridor."

The image of Remus, in dishevelled Hogwarts robes, prefect's badge askew, lying bewildered atop a girl in the corridor, was too much.

Or maybe it was even funnier with him underneath. _Lucky, lucky girl._

"Did you land on top?" she managed to ask.

"Yes, thank you."

"Did you use it to your advantage, or is poor timing a lifelong affliction?"

Lifting his head, Remus narrowed his eyes in mock annoyance, but it was undermined by his cheeks colouring, and his sheepish voice admitting, "Professor McGonagall just happened to be passing by at that precise moment. We rather fell at her feet."

Tonks hooted. "How many nights did you spend polishing Quidditch cups, Prefect Lupin?"

Remus sat up a little straighter. For a moment she could have sworn she was looking into a Pensieve and watching sixteen-year-old Remus bragging to Sirius and James Potter. "She told me to leave the cupboard tidy when I'd finished in it."

Tonks blinked.

Remus' lips pressed very tightly together, clearly battling laughter. "It's true. But I was far too embarrassed to return to the broom cupboard after that, and the girl concerned lost all enthusiasm for me anyway. Something to do with bruising a certain part of her anatomy cushioning our fall, I suspect. It was a great relief we didn't have to face detentions together."

"You must have managed a charming and endearing cupboard fall for McGonagall to take pity on you. She used to terrify the life out of me striding around in those tartan plaids of hers." Tonks looked at him suspiciously as his face flushed crimson at her words. "What?"

He shook his head, still looking embarrassed for some reason. "People think you're charmingly awkward, too."

Tonks snorted. "No one thought that when I was at Hogwarts. You know what happened when I sneaked up to the Astronomy Tower for a snog?"

"You were caught and given a week's worth of detentions?"

"Worse. Head Boy Bill locked us up there."

Smirking instead of sympathetic, Remus said, "But surely _you _took advantage of the situation and enjoyed an all-night snog under the stars."

"The boy I was meeting blamed it all on me for being too clumsy to sneak about properly. We ended up duelling."

"Oh," he said with amusement, peering over the arm of the sofa just in time to see her wave her wand over one of the tobacco pouches and turn it into black peppercorns. She'd like to see Dung smoke a few of them. "Did you win?"

"Of course I won. But that got me more detentions than he did. And it also left me without a date for a very long time, as he ended up with a bruised ego."

Remus relaxed against the back of the sofa, stretching his legs out almost to touch the wall. "My little broom cupboard escapade was my last for a while, too. All the other relationship disasters were because of the more obvious problem."

She looked at him.

"Story of my life," Remus shrugged, his face very still. "I've never had a relationship last more than a few months, because I've been too cowardly to tell a girl the truth."

"You're not a coward. And it's not the story of your life anymore."

His gaze fell to his lap, but he gave a little smile."I've got to admit, it's a wonderful relief not to have to tell you -- though I think that does prove I'm a bit cowardly." The lines of his face deepened. "Doesn't it bother you at all?"

Tonks shook her head. His eyes were so searching, that she shrugged for good measure. "Why should it?"

Remus opened his mouth, paused, and then shut it again. Tonks decided to fill in the gap for him, and show him at the same time that there were other things she was rather more interested in at the moment.

"There _is_ one thing that worries me about you, Remus."

She waited, maintaining a grim expression until he looked almost fearful. It occurred to her that he must be preparing himself for all manner of embarrassing, insensitive questions, and she almost felt guilty enough to drop the charade.

But not quite guilty enough. "Who'd you go to the Innuendo with? After all, I gave up my chance to go to listen to this boring story."

"If you're so sure my story's boring," said Remus, eyes glinting at her in what looked like equal measures of relief and devilry, "then why do you insist on hearing it?"

Tonks decided to take advantage of the information he'd dropped earlier. Throwing back her shoulders, she adopted her best hands-on-hips Auror stance, which wasn't easy, sat down, and commanded, "Quit stalling and talk, Lupin. Who was the lucky girl?"

"Mad-Eye."

She narrowly avoided choking. "_Mad-Eye_?"

"We pursued a suspect there, and--"

Having picked up her jaw, Tonks plopped onto the sofa beside him. "What were the pair of you wearing? Did you Transfigure your clothes into disco gear?" She grinned. "Was it as good as my Abba outfit when I was Agnetha in that blue sequinned little number with the white boots?"

Remus winced, as though he were remembering something painful. "All I will say on the matter is that I could have successfully campaigned for werewolf employment rights in the time it took me to convince Mad-Eye to Conjure the appropriate disguise. And that, hopefully, _I_ was about as noticeable as Benny and Bjorn always were." He grinned. "Mad-Eye, however, did stand out rather."

Tonks let it slide, because she was going to get this out of him sooner rather than later, and her imagination was busy running riot supplying satisfactory images. Especially of Remus, in a chocolate-coloured retro suit to bring out the tawny brown streaks in his hair and the bright blue of his eyes… Maybe she could convince him to take her there one night. Or she could always order him, since he liked her in _captivating _Auror mode…

"When we finally got into the club," said Remus, "we learned the suspect had just been forcibly ejected, due to a code blue--"

Tonks clapped her hands over her mouth to smother a shriek of laughter.

"Oh, it gets better," said Remus. "Mad-Eye got terribly excited -- 'Bugger's exposed himself in some way!' he said -- only to track him down in an alley, and find him with his trousers round his ankles."

They laughed uproariously, and at length, but when Tonks was slumped breathlessly, with aching sides, against the sofa, practically in the crook of Remus' arm, she decided it was time to be honest.

"I didn't really have plans to go there tonight," she said, wiping the laughter-induced tears from her eyes. "It was just…Molly and Sirius were making such a big thing about me looking nice, and embarrassing you… And it wound me up, and it was the first thing that popped into my head.'

"Well you do look … very nice." He smiled.

The way his eyes swept over her, not missing a strand of hair or a freckle or _anything_, made it hard for Tonks to think about the fact that she'd ditched her jacket and bra because she was so sweaty, and probably looked as if she'd just come off the Quidditch pitch after a particularly rough losing match.

"More than nice," he said quietly. "Beautiful."

Tonks wondered if she was going to dissolve on the spot. Dear Merlin… Coming from him… _Beautiful… _She wasn't even morphed, except for her hair… Couldn't believe he'd said … Thank God she'd gone with pink… _Captivating…_ Well, the one thing she certainly wasn't was coherent.

_But she believed him_. _He meant what he said._

"I…It's nice to know you dressed for the mission. Together." Remus caught her hand. "With me."

It came as no surprise when she had no time to dwell on this moment and catch her breath because there was movement in the houses below. The messenger left in the same blundering way she'd arrived, and Tonks took out her frustration with another commentary that verged on being downright bitchy, as well as slanderous. Fortunately, Remus seemed to find it all highly amusing.

_And he was still holding her hand. She kept squeezing it slightly, just to check._

"If you were to spill Flaming Firewhiskey on _that_ blonde," said Remus, after Tonks had exclaimed at how she was afraid the broomstick wouldn't hold and she'd come crashing through Primrose Byre and crush them both in the dung heap, "I might suspect you'd done it on purpose."

Tonks assumed her most intimidating stance and glare, but of course the fact that Remus apparently _liked _her to be intimidating rendered this completely ineffective.

And she didn't feel particularly like trying to be intimidating when he said in a totally charming and endearing fashion, "And I would act upon that suspicion by asking you to go out with me. Preferably not to the Innuendo."

"How about a walk on the beach? There's no need to stay here now, after all." Tonks looked at him, any fear that she'd sounded _too _eager dispelled by his slowly spreading lopsided grin.

He glanced at his watch and beamed. "We can watch the sun rise and still make it back to Grimmauld in time to see Harry."

They gathered their belongings: Tonks slipped on her bolero jacket, anticipating the cool August morning, and Remus slipped two of the as-yet un-vandalised Firewhiskey bottles into his rucksack so they could fill them with seawater whilst they strolled along the shore. After they'd called off their extra security charms and let Primrose back into her home -- with the admonishment that she'd better keep the place as clean as possible, so that Dung would feel as uncomfortable as they had -- they clasped hands again with one accord, and stepped out into the grey pre-dawn.

A haze cast everything into slightly gloomy relief, but a sky full of puffy, cotton wool-like clouds that almost touched the dark water indicated a glorious morning was about to break. As they descended the grassy bank, passing the quaint white cottages, the only sound was of the water lapping the shore. Nothing stirred, except for the faint breeze ruffling their hair.

Everything was waiting to wake up and start the day. Except they'd already started theirs. Tonks felt every nerve and vessel of her body thrumming with the anticipation of sunrise; Remus' pulse fluttered rapidly against her wrist.

At the edge of the bank, they wordlessly stopped to shed socks and shoes. As they bent to turn up the legs of their trousers, Tonks stole a glance at Remus. His calves were lean and pale, and seemed to be covered in the same fine, golden hairs as his arms.

Out the corner of her eye, she caught him watching her as well.

He'd called her beautiful.

The look on his face told her he was thinking it again.

She grabbed his hand, laced her fingers through his, and pulled him towards the water. The damp sand felt so nice and cool under the soles of her feet, squishing up between her toes. They both inhaled sharply as they stepped into the water, but they braved the chill, wading in up to their ankles to let the flow drag heavy sand over their feet, then make them sink into it as it ebbed.

But standing still, the wind and water made Tonks shiver. Remus, who had bent to fill the Firewhiskey bottles, stuck them into the sand and rose. From behind, he slipped his arms around her waist, tucking her head perfectly beneath his chin. Their comfortable silence continued as the clouds were slowly lit from within by a pinky golden glow, like lanterns inside.

Then the first rays struck the water and the sea went from dark grey to sparkling where it caught the light, first in a narrow path, which spread wider and wider and lit up the whole dancing, rippling body. Everything was suddenly warmer, and all around them things began to awake: here and there a bird called; in the distant village, a car engine roared to life.

"I'd volunteer for duty in Primrose Byre again," Tonks said, leaning back against him and thinking how warm he was, "if it meant we got to do this every day."

The slight stubble on Remus' chin pricked her ear as he tightened his arms around her. "At risk of making myself even less a gentleman than you already think, thanks to that Tuna_gropa_ charm of yours, I daresay we don't have to go to a smelly cowshed if we want to stay up all night and watch the sun rise together."

His lips brushed her cheek as Tonks turned her head to murmur, "So, now you've finally asked me to go on a date with you--"

"Not just one," Remus interrupted. "I'm thinking a couple, or several, or a dozen is a nice round number."

"A dozen dates," Tonks repeated, and didn't care that she sounded dreamily daft.

Yes, Remus Lupin definitely wanted a _relationship_ with her.

"Mmm, the alliteration's the clincher," he said, "and it works for dozens of dates, too. Now what were you saying?

"Now you've finally asked me out, can we pretend we just progressed naturally to groping?"

"Will I be restored to gentlemanly status?" His breath tickled her ear, making her shiver.

"I hope not." Her own voice dropped just above a whisper. "In case you hadn't guessed, the real reason I didn't wake you is because I rather enjoy being groped. By you."

Remus laughed low and, as he nuzzled her cheek, Tonks turned a little more in his arms, to give him better access to her mouth when he decided to work his way round there. She surely wouldn't have to hint more than this, would she?

But Remus didn't lean in to kiss her.

In fact, he wasn't even looking at her.

He was looking down at his arms around her waist. Or, more precisely, at his watch. With a very serious expression.

"We really ought to get back to headquarters," Remus said briskly. "Molly will be getting Harry up soon." He looked at her, his face serious and business-like again. "I'm sorry, but we do want to get back, don't we? There's always later."

The bitter taste of disappointment burned in Tonks' throat. She nodded dumbly, because of course she did want to see Harry, but she couldn't believe that they couldn't spare another ten minutes. Or even five.

_Remus obviously didn't want to._

She took a step forward; unable to look at him, and then a number of things happened at once.

For some bizarre reason, she seemed to be swallowing sea water.

In between there was a vague sensation of having briefly felt Remus' lips against hers, but a number of other things had distracted from it: his arms suddenly crushing her against him…a familiar loss of equilibrium…the ground rushing up at her at a steep angle…a chilly splash into sparkling golden waters…clinging, soaking clothes and the feeling of lying on heavy silt…

…and Remus, wearing the same expression of awkward, mortified and very endearing surprise she'd imagined during his Hogwarts story, falling rather neatly on top of her.

On the plus side, at least she hadn't bruised her bum.

Sputtering and coughing, Tonks managed to croak, "Were…were you trying… to k-kiss me?"

Remus nodded, once. "Thought I'd be sneaky and catch you off guard…" He turned his head and sneezed. Sniffing, and blinking hard, he said, "If it weren't for the water up my nose, I'd think I was reliving the sixth year broom cupboard fiasco."

A small wave rolled over, drenching them more thoroughly and obscuring Remus' sheepish face for a moment. Water beaded in his fringe, then dripped onto Tonks' nose. He wiped it away, but his own fingers were wet and not much help. They did work into her hair -- to pull something out.

"This is the culprit." Remus dangled a clump of seaweed, then cast it aside. "Damn slippery plant. I'm sorry."

Despite his apology, he made no move to get off of her, but remained as he had fallen, straddling her legs, holding his weight off her by resting on his elbows.

Tonks clutched his upper arms, to which his blue shirt was plastered almost transparently. "I'm starting to think you're the clumsy sort after all."

As he peered down at her his eyes blazed, catching the ever-brightening light. "No," he said huskily, "just a bit awkward at times. Like when I really, really want things to go well."

He dipped his head and kissed her.

It was no awkward kiss, no tentative brushing of the lips. Another wave rippled over their legs, and Remus kissed her deeply. Tonks opened to him, and his lips and tongue drew her in. They immediately found their rhythm, swirling and meeting and parting, and returning again as naturally as the incoming sea.

She'd never kissed a wizard who was at once gentle and assertive, graceful and thorough, and she loved the way he knew instinctively when to give and when to take, and how to respond in just the way she liked.

He kissed exactly like his magic.

And Remus didn't just kiss with his mouth; all of him was part of it. His legs pressed on either side of hers; his body curled over hers; his hands were in her hair, on her face, on her waist, her hips, fingers always caressing, coaxing…

He made her want more. _Oh, God…_

Tonks parted her knees, and with a low sound of pleasure, Remus settled himself between them, allowing his weight to rest on her. His lips were softer on hers than before, yet somehow no less intense.

With a more purposeful touch, his hands strayed to her tummy, fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt, which, Tonks realised in the midst of a thousand sensations that surpassed any coherent thought, had crept up far above her belly button, and clung to her bra-less chest like a second skin. She didn't care, as he traced patterns on her skin, drifting back and forth between rib cage and hipbones.

She did care, though, that his hands suddenly didn't feel right. They felt…a bit slimy.

And of course, when she pushed up on her elbows to check what it was, they both groaned to see tiny particles of seaweed webbed between Remus' fingers.

Tonks laughed, feeling the first warm beams of sunlight touch her face. "Kingsley and Emmeline thought _we _needed help getting together. I don't think they counted on the forces of nature conspiring against us, too."

Wordlessly and wandlessly, Remus Vanished the clump of seaweed that stubbornly floated toward them again. "There's one bit of nature we won't have to contend with anymore."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. Instead of laying her down again, his hands slid beneath her lower back, cupping her bottom to pull her into his lap. He kissed her lips again, fleetingly but searingly, before working his way down to her jaw. One of his arms was wrapped around her waist, supporting her. The other hand made its way up her body as his lips worked lower. He kissed the valley of her collarbone. The waves swirled around them, her head was swirling too, and she all but gasped as his fingertips briefly brushed against the curves of her breasts.

One of her hands -- trembling -- slid down over Remus' shoulder and chest, tracing the wet material of his shirt, and closed over his hand, which was now on her waist. She nudged it up over her breast. He pulled his lips from her throat and lifted his head.

He murmured her name.

Tonks opened her eyes, and she took in his bright blue ones -- Merlin_, so _bright, with all the pink and orange and gold burning in the sky and water -- she knew her own were--

"They're changing," Remus whispered, looking mesmerised.

"Awkward adolescent thing." Her voice was decidedly unsteady. "Means I like what you're doing to me."

"Does it now?"

Actually it didn't. What Remus was doing was not, in any way, like anything she'd experienced as a teenager. Or a grown witch.

He was making her fall in love with him. _Her eyes were reflecting her feelings._

She should have been honest with him. That was what the whole evening had been about, wasn't it?

She'd tell him soon. When she was capable of putting words together in a way that resembled the English language. She would have plenty of time, on one of those dozens of dates.

Remus was gently laying her down again, and as he settled again between her legs, his gaze wandering downward to her chest, to the expanse of flushed skin exposed by the deep V-neck; then further down to his own fingers, which were softly stroking the hardened bumps of her nipples beneath the thin, drenched fabric of her shirt.

But his eyes flicked upward again, his damp hair falling forward as he lowered his head and--

_Oh. Sweet. Merlin. _

That was Remus' tongue, licking the length of the hollow between her breasts, tasting the salt on her skin. His growth of stubble was deliciously rough against the sensitive skin. Her legs wrapped around his waist as her head fell back.

Two dark shapes bobbed past on an outgoing wave. Two brown bottles. Not realising till her forehead smacked into Remus' nose that he'd stretched to kiss her mouth again, Tonks tried to sit upright.

"Dung's Firewhiskey!" she shrieked as they drifted further out.

She squirmed to make a grab for them, but not with much enthusiasm, and Remus held her firmly beneath him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"We did want to fill them with sea water."

"So mission accomplished," Tonks agreed, thinking how very glad she was that he was here to point these things out, and tilting her head up to kiss his nose as apology.

"Two bottles with one sea." Remus' mouth found hers again in a brief, firm kiss that seemed to promise a great deal, and made her want to cling to him in a totally undignified fashion. He drew back with a sigh. He swept her hair back from her face to kiss her forehead. "If I don't move now, I never will. And time is running away from us."

Tonks disentangled herself reluctantly from him, and he stood and pulled her to her feet in one swift motion. Her eyes swept over him. His hair stood on end, every which way, and the droplets clinging to it glittered in the sun. Every line of his body was visible as his sopping, silt-streaked clothing clung to him. Even his boxers -- did he wear boxers? -- must be drenched. His eyes looked even bluer, surrounded by spidery red lines from the irritating seawater and lack of sleep.

She thought he was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen.

As for her… She winced. There was probably makeup running down her face, and she'd been the one rolling around in the sand and the silt, after all, and she could just feel it, and probably a passing bit of seaweed, too, in her hair…

But Remus was looking at her as she must be looking at him. He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. Slowly. Thoroughly. Mind-blowingly. His fingers trailed up and down her back, palms pressing flat against her, spanning her waist, pulling her tightly against him.

This time it was Tonks who drew back first, with Harry's name on her lips. "And I've got to get cleaned up for work."

"Do you have to?" Remus grinned wickedly at her. "I like you all wet. I'm sure no one will notice."

Tonks pulled a face at him, while trying to contain that idiotic grin again; then cast a cleaning and drying charm over both their clothes, which did their best to work under the most difficult of circumstances. They returned to their belongings, and as Remus stepped into his shoes without bothering with the socks, instead shoving them into the rucksack, Tonks said, "I'm supposed to be on duty again tonight, but I'll swap."

"It's a date, then?" His eyes twinkled at her. "Our first actual date?"

"Night in at mine? Sorry, I know you've got a thing for broom cupboards, but--"

"--you never know where Kreacher may be lurking at Grimmauld. But I do want to take you _out_. For a proper date. Or a dozen."

Tonks threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She thought about wanting to do this to him for all these weeks and all these months now, and put a lot of pent-up enthusiasm into it. Nothing like making up for lost time.

When she drew back, Remus wore a decidedly glazed expression. "I'll, erm, take that as a yes, shall I?"

He held out his hand, but as she took it, Tonks glanced back at Primrose Byre.

"Sure you don't want to grab a few more bottles and get revenge on Dung like we planned?"

"We haven't time," said Remus, tugging her in the direction of the Apparition point. "And anyway, we've more important people to get revenge on."

"Julian? I've been looking for the right time to morph into his fiancée -- he's engaged to the obnoxious blonde now, she's a Gladrags model -- and announce to all their friends that the ointment the Healers gave him just isn't working at all."

Remus laughed. "I'm sure that would be satisfying for you, but I'd like to play the people who set us up at their own game."

Tonks glanced up at him. "Any ideas how to get back at Kingsley and Emmeline?" She was all for pranks, but pulling one over on Emmeline? That was going to require a great deal of imagination.

They had reached the Apparition point -- an out of order Muggle telephone box. Remus stood aside for her to step through the door he held, but Tonks paused to look up at him. His eyes were dancing and full of mischief as he squeezed her hand and said, "I was thinking more of giving the _real _culprits a taste of their own medicine."

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Including the fact that she'd always wanted to see if it was possible to kiss someone while Apparating.

It seemed it was perfectly possible after all.

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**Much appreciated reviewers get to roll in the waves and snog Remus as the sun comes up, or have that elusive first date where he seems to be keen to stay in for the night? The choice is yours…**


	6. Revenge Is A Dish

**Author's Note: The last scene in this final chapter is based on the start of chapter 7, "The Ministry of Magic", from OotP, and several lines, actions, and details of seating arrangements are taken directly from the text … ;)**

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**Epilogue**

**Revenge Is a Dish...**

Remus wasn't at all sure that the walls of the alleyway which was the Apparation point for Grimmauld Place were particularly clean. However, Tonks was wearing black, and after what their clothes had just been through they could probably withstand anything. Besides he had more pressing matters on his mind, not least that they had, at most, about ten minutes to actually get back inside the house.

It had to be said they'd only made all of about two steps in roughly that direction since arriving here. And, if he was being strictly accurate, they were sideways ones.

"You're happy with the plan?" he asked again.

"Mmn."

"Only you keep saying 'Mmn' and I'm not sure if it means you are or not."

"Mmn." Tonks lifted her head up to glance at him and smiled, which from a distance of approximately three inches away was quite devastating. "Aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but I'm not entirely sure --" He stopped because the smile and what she was currently doing was making it very hard to form full and coherent sentences. He was also receiving urgent messages from his hands, which were telling him it seemed a terrible shame not to stroke the smooth skin of her sides and stomach while they were in that area, and feel the muscles contract underneath in response.

"Mmn," she said in an appreciative whisper, brushing her lips against his neck.

Remus nearly said "Mmn" himself as she moved against him, but someone had to keep their wits about them and, unfortunately, it seemed that someone had to be him.

"I'm not entirely sure we're talking about the same plan here," he said, in rather a rush. "Are we?"

It seemed only fitting after managing all of that to give himself a reward, so he kissed her, finding the taste of her utterly intoxicating once more, and that the edge of her top was stiff and crinkly from the salt water as he slid his fingers underneath it and upwards. All of this totally derailed his train of thought, and he had to force himself to pull back from her, and concentrate on getting the carriages back into line and hitched up to the engine once more.

_Time. Harry. Grimmauld. They'd got to get back inside before the house, and everybody in it, woke up._

She was staring up at him, slightly open-mouthed, a smile hovering around her lips.

"I'm fine with both plans, Remus." She leaned forward, having apparently decided for some reason to carry on the rest of the conversation with her mouth against his neck. "Both you and me, later on tonight --" her voice was distinctly muffled now and her breath was tickling his skin "-- and what we're going to do once we're back inside. I've been working on that one already."

"You—" He stopped abruptly, both at her words and the feel of what was surely her tongue against the pulse in his neck.

She grinned upwards at him from a forty-five degree angle, in a way that made him think the _Little minx_ password was both perfectly apt, and made up by someone who knew her very well indeed.

"Mmn." She gave a soft snort of laughter. "See, I knew you weren't concentrating on the right plan yourself, while you were getting all snotty with me about it."

_"What?"_ Remus was taken aback at the gross injustice of this, when he was the one who'd worked on it under the most distracting of circumstances, while she'd just been … distracting. "I think you'll find I was the one coming up with all the lines to say, and how to play this."

"Mmn." Tonks nodded in agreement, and started to trace the line of his spine through his shirt with a zig-zagging finger. "But then you're the one who pinned me up against the wall in the first place and," she paused, apparently to fight back a giggle, "who has completely failed to notice that I'm already prepared and ready to go."

He blinked at her.

She raised both eyebrows and disentangled a hand to point to her hair. Her blonde, curly hair. _When the hell had that happened?_

He cleared his throat and said, with what he hoped sounded like hurt dignity: "I assumed that was your passion hair."

She laughed. "I think my passion hair will be forever pink after tonight. No, I've told quite a few people that I go blonde when I'm in a bad mood, so let's hope they remember that little fact."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll remind them. I've planned my own lines while you were rabbiting on." The dark eyes danced wickedly at him. "Now, much as I hate to say it, shouldn't we be going?"

Remus stared at her. He'd spent the whole night agonising over whether he could and should ask her out, and then he'd fallen on top of her and half-drowned them both in the sea. Now here they were in a less than clean alleyway, and her hands were gripping his back as if, despite her words, she had no intention of letting him go anywhere, and he could feel her heart beating much faster than it should against his own. And he really had her pinned up against the wall, and the kaleidoscope of brown lights dancing within her eyes certainly didn't look anything remotely like an awkward adolescent thing to him.

"Remus?"

"In a minute," he said, and found her mouth again with his, in what he momentarily assured himself would be a tender last kiss. Instead, it became several, lengthy, final ones of increasing fervour, unaccompanied by any 'Mmn's' as neither of them had the breath or wit to spare; and was followed by an undignified and slightly frantic half jog and half run back towards the house, while clutching hands and laughingly blaming each other.

They let themselves into Grimmauld with a stealth that Crookshanks would be proud of, and blinked with relief at the darkness and quiet that greeted them. The hallway was chilly and unwelcoming, but Remus allowed himself one more kiss on those warm lips, and thought he'd never felt so at home.

He pointed upstairs as they'd decided she should go to the room she'd got changed in earlier, while he'd head for the kitchen. Sirius always rose precisely at five o'clock, a hard-to-shake routine left over from Azkaban, and Harry surely wouldn't be lying in on today of all days.

The whole house would come alive at any minute.

She nodded, started to move away, and then came quickly back to him, winding her arms round him and burying her head in the crook of his neck. He held her tightly for a few seconds, his face in her hair with neither of them saying a word, and neither of them needing to, before they let go of each other. She headed for the staircase while he did a hurried spell to silence the creaking floorboards. She made it safely to the top, nearly collided fatally with an elf head while turning to wave at him, and disappeared with a final, mischievous grin.

Remus let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding, and headed quietly for the kitchen.

The tea had been in the pot for several minutes and the toast residing on one of the weighty family plates, when the door opened abruptly due to Sirius' usual impatient shove at anything that had the audacity to get in his way.

The familiar tall figure paused momentarily in the doorway at the sight of him.

"Morning." Remus started to smile, but it turned into a wide yawn. Merlin, he remembered suddenly how tired he was, and the places where sand had somehow lodged were letting him know about it now he was sat down. He bit back a grin as he wondered if Tonks had the same problem, and cleared his throat to say: "Tea's ready if you want one."

"Something stronger than that on a day like today," Sirius, having quickly recovered from his apparent surprise, sounded glum. "Didn't expect to see you back," he added, from over his shoulder, as he poured himself a mug. "Thought you'd be too knackered."

"You didn't?" Remus reached for the pot of lime marmalade. "But you knew I wanted to see Harry before the hearing."

Sirius shrugged. "As you said last night, he should be okay. Thought you might have other things to think about this morning, anyway." He picked up the steaming mug and kicked the chair moodily with his foot, causing it to shift rather violently away from the table so that he could sit on it. "The hearing's nothing to worry about, as you keep telling me, because Dumbledore will be there for any funny stuff. I still think you lot are being far too casual about it, but then everyone knows I'm just paranoid. But while we know all this, Harry _doesn't_, and I can't go with him so he doesn't worry. But that's okay, too, because Uncle Arthur's going to take him, so who needs me?"

"Harry will when it's all over." Remus looked at him hard, aware that he himself had a faintly uneasy feeling about the hearing, which was partly why he'd been so anxious to get back. He wondered if Tonks had felt the same, and wished he'd asked her. Seeking to find the words to reassure Sirius, he said: "Does it really matter who takes him to the damn thing as long as he knows who cares about him while he's there?"

Sirius took a long swig of tea, gulped it down noisily, and sighed. "Did I ever tell you how much I hate it when you get all boring and sensible?"

He still sounded surly, but something had lifted. Remus smiled.

"Did I ever ask if you always wake up grumpy?"

"Well I used to leave her on the pillow next to me, but let's not talk about the good old days." Suddenly he was watching Remus intently, with bright, interested eyes. "Where's Tonks?" he asked, casually.

"Upstairs." Remus put a piece of toast in his mouth.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did you enjoy the duty with her? Only you certainly look like a bloke who's been up all ni—"

"It was a duty." Remus bit off another piece of toast. "One's much like another, as you know."

Sirius frowned slightly. "Yeah, but Kingsley said this place you were going to was fantastic. And even you couldn't bugger up being alone for a night in a dream cottage with a woman your tongue's been hanging out for."

"Kingsley had never set foot in the place," Remus said, putting his knife down with a clatter. "And, let's face it, only a right idiot would believe anything Dung told him. I was suspicious from the start, but even I never imagined how bad it was. Kingsley's going to be embarrassed for weeks when I tell him he recommended a stinking cow shed to me as the perfect place to get away from it all."

Sirius' eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. "… Cow shed?"

"You've never seen anything like it." Remus nodded. "Most cows would have run a mile in horror."

"Right." Sirius took another mouthful of tea, a much quieter one this time. "Must have been a bit of a let down."

"It would have been except I had bigger problems by then to worry about. God, you think you know someone really well, and then you suddenly realise you don't know them at all." Remus shook his head in disbelief and looked at his watch. "I hope Molly's down soon, I really wouldn't say no to some bacon and eggs, would you?"

"What problems?" Sirius' head had come up sharply.

"Oh…" Remus made a vague gesture of annoyance. "Let's not talk about it. It'll just put me in a bad mood as well. I need to sort it out with Kingsley, anyway."

Sirius' brow was wrinkled. "Where's Tonks?" he asked, again.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about it."

"Well it's hardly her fault the place was a dump, is it?"

"You're missing the point," Remus said, shortly.

"You've messed this up, haven't you?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "I don't believe you!"

"Actually it wasn't -"

"For Merlin's sake, she got dolled up to the nines for you, and all you had to do was take advantage of what was blatantly on offer. How hard can it be?"

Remus grinned. "You don't want to rephrase that last bit at all?"

"Oh, shut up!" Sirius gave him a disgusted look. "What did you do? Please don't tell me you decided she was too good for you, or some such crap, because I'll hex you on the spot. Do you have any idea of ho—"

"Actually it wasn't me."

"Anyone else would have jumped at such a golden opportunity but, oh no, not you! It's a cow shed! It's dirty! _What does it matter if you_ _can lie down in it?"_

Remus thought that accommodating attitude explained a few things from the Hogwarts years which had puzzled him at the time -- especially the feathers, which looked as though a rather bald chicken somewhere would be searching for them, and which had kept falling out from under Michaela Morrison's long skirt one day at breakfast -- but he was far more preoccupied by struggling to hold in a laugh. Especially at what he'd got to say next with exactly the right intonation.

"Tonks would doubtless agree with you," he said, gravely.

Sirius looked distinctly taken aback, and Remus was absurdly pleased to see this reaction on Tonks' behalf. "So what's—?"

"The problem?" Remus traced a grove in the table with his finger, to give himself time to make sure he had his expression just as he wanted it. "The _problem_ is a whole new twist on the werewolf problem." He shook his head. "Never in a million years could I have seen this coming."

"But she doesn't care about that!"

"I know that only too well, thank you."

"So what are you on about?" Sirius opened his hands palm upwards in a gesture of non-comprehension which Remus found distinctly satisfying.

"Kingsley set me up," he said, quietly, "and Emmeline did the same to Tonks. They didn't know what the place was like, but everything else was a set up to get us together. Like juvenile passwords and loads of drink available to get us in a romantic mood. Which would have been all well and good, apart from Tonks revealing just how much she does care about the werewolf problem."

"But she doesn't, you silly sod!"

"No. You don't understand." Remus leant forward with his elbows on the table and lowered his voice. "Look – you're not to breathe a word of this, all right?"

"Bloody hell, Moony, whatever it is, you've got to be making too much of it." Sirius was frowning heavily, his thick black eyebrows drawn together. "Are you sure you haven't simply misunderstood what she said?"

"Not a word, all right? I don't want Tonks to be—" Remus paused, as though searching for the right one himself, "—upset. Although as she didn't consider my feelings in the matter at all, I'm not quite sure why I'm so bothered about hers. And it's not a question of what she said, it's what she did."

The frown had got worse. "You're making this sound sort of weird."

Remuis shrugged. "Yes, well, I did think it was distinctly weird when she started complaining I wasn't hairy enough."

Sirius blinked.

"It was rather off-putting to say the least. Not to say embarrassing. I mean, she almost seemed to have been expecting it on my back as well, like …_ fur."_

Another blink.

"And then she couldn't hide the disappointment that I wasn't scarred from head to foot with not an inch of normal skin at all."

Sirius opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"She's studied werewolves for a long time, you see. I think she does genuinely like me, but there's no doubt what she was most thrilled about was having her own personal werewolf to examine all to herself. Unfortunately, I don't think I quite came up to expectations for her."

Sirius seemed to have found a voice again, even though it was much hoarser than the one he normally used on a day-to-day basis. "Th-that doesn't sound so bad," he started, "perhaps once she'd got over her curiousity--"

"She wanted me to growl at her, Sirius. All the time." Remus pulled a face in disgust. "Have you any idea how much of a turn-off it was?"

"Well I usually think some sort of kinkiness adds spice--" He broke off hastily as he saw Remus' expression. "No. It's wrong. Very wrong. I can see why you'd be upset."

"Yes." Remus bit his lip. "Of course, she tried to pretend then that it had all just been a terrific joke, but you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife after that, and the real worry is that I have no idea how I'm going to do any duties with her in the future. I'm going to string Kingsley up when I see him."

"Right." Sirius' eyes had a slightly glazed quality. "Yes. Well I still say you shouldn't over-react."

"Over-react?" Remus looked at him in amazement. "I'm thinking of owling the idiot right now and telling him what I think of his meddling."

"I don't think you should do anything hasty." Sirius sounded rather hasty himself. "You're a bit upset, which is fair enough, but we don't want to make things worse, do we? I'm sure Kingsley was acting from the best of intentions, as was Emmeline."

"_'Best of intentions?'_ Tonks and I can't look each other in the face any more, and we've spoken all of two words since we got back here. That's a great state of affairs for a couple of Order members."

"Okay, but you've got to admit that Snivellus gets by just fine having that sort of relationship with everyone?" Sirius looked hopefully at him for non-existent signs of humour. "Okay. I admit I'd never have imagined in a million years that Tonks would ever have these, um, tendencies, but it's hardly the end of the world, is it?"

Remus looked at him coldly. "No. The end of the world arrived when she mentioned the dubious future possibility of something she referred to as multi-coloured werepups. She actually seemed deeply turned on by the prospect. Apparently she wants at least ten and several litters. Where's your owl? I've had it up to here with old friends sticking their long noses in where they're not wanted, and when I had everything perfectly in hand anyway."

"Owl? Now hang on a sec—" Sirius stopped dead, staring, as Remus, unable to contain himself any longer, burst out laughing. He slumped back in his chair in disbelief while Remus tried to control himself. "Why you absolute sodding _bastard."_

"Yes." Remus nodded, still laughing. "Though you can talk."

"It was all from the best of intentions!" Sirius slapped the edge of the table indignantly. "I can't think of anyone else I'd try and help out like this."

"Lucky them. I can't think what possessed you."

"Your inability to take opportunities, for a start. And she's just as bad. Something had to be done." Sirius snorted. "Does Tonks know you're passing her off as a werewolf pervert nowadays? I knew it was ludicrous."

"Silly me then, thinking you were momentarily quite impressed at the prospect. It was her idea, actually. Which I probably should be worried about." Remus smiled at the memory of Tonks planning this with him in the alleyway. He smiled even more at the thought of what else they'd done, but Sirius' mind had already leapt ahead to other things.

"How'd you suss me then? Did Kingsley slip up? Emmeline? As for Dung, I'll be ramming that pipe of his down his throat the next time I see him. The sod swore to me it was everything a seduction pad should be. Did he leave something that gave it away?"

Remus was shaking his head. "Kingsley was faultless. Tonks says Emmeline was, too. Though I was surprised by the idea of them as a couple—"

"It was supposed to be him and Hestia," said Sirius, gloomily. "The silly cow couldn't stop giggling, though, so Emmeline had to substitute at the last minute. That's what happens when you involve amateurs."

"—but it was actually you who gave it away."

"Me?" Sirius sat up, eyebrows raised high in indignation. "You're kidding me. I never put a foot wrong. All that praising you for your own deviousness in wangling a duty with her was a master-stroke. You lapped it up in your best smug git fashion!"

Remus raised his own eyebrows in return. "_'Romantic Thurlestone on a hot and steamy night?'_ Ring any bells?"

Sirius screwed his eyes up. "I said it, didn't I?"

"You did. But all I'd told you was that I was doing Kingsley's night duty in Devon. So how did you happen to know exactly where it was? And then I thought back to how you'd been so admiring of my apparent manipulation of the situation and could just see you trying to pull my strings."

"Oh, Merlin!" Sirius looked as if he was strongly considering banging his head against the table in frustration. "Now that's an elementary mistake, which I'd never have made if I wasn't so out of practice. It's positively embarrassing!"

Remus grinned. "It will be when I go on about it for months and months."

"James would disown me in disgust." Sirius groaned loudly and buried his face in his hands. "I might even disown myself," he added, sounding rather muffled.

"Don't take it too hard. It did take me a little while to get it. I must be out of practice, too."

"Yeah, well, it's not much consolation." Sirius raised his head and regarded him somewhat blearily. "I really did do it out of good intentions, you know. I wanted to help."

"I know." Remus smiled, while thinking that though Sirius fully believed that – and so did he – he also knew Sirius would always look for something to distract him if he was thwarted with something he really wanted. Like being everything he thought he should be to Harry, which included being both a godfather and a substitute for James. Or did Molly have a point when she said Harry was the one who was substituting for his father?

He wondered once again if Sirius, in his heart of hearts, really wanted Harry to be cleared at the hearing, and thought it was entirely understandable if a small part of him longed for permanent company and unstinting admiration. He'd been starved of both for such a long time.

"I thought you'd like the passwords." Sirius was smirking.

"_'Older men do it longer?'_ Yes, thanks for that, really subtle."

"Don't worry, it'll have lodged somewhere deep in her sub-conscious, and she'll start thinking about testing the theory sooner rather than later. Women are so predictable." Sirius was still smirking, while staring at him, hopefully. "So did I?"

"Did you what?"

"Did it work out for you both? Did you get off with her and, if you did, you owe me a vote of thanks instead of all this abuse." The eyebrows came together again, as another thought occurred to him. "What _is _Tonks doing upstairs exactly?"

"Getting changed." Remus looked at him innocently.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"That sounds like people are moving upstairs." Remus put the last bit of toast in his mouth and stood up to take his plate to the sink.

Sirius let out a snort of admiring laughter behind him. "You can keep a poker face all you like, but as soon as she walks through that door I'll know instantly. Everything shows on that girl's face. If she's all pink haired and glowing, it'll be a dead giveaway, and you can lie and scheme all you like but I'll know. So you might as well tell me now."

"There's nothing to tell." Remus glanced upwards. "I can definitely hear movement. We'd better stoke the fire as I still fancy bacon and eggs."

"You're really going to drag this out, aren't you? Make me sweat."

"Oh, yes." Remus looked at him over his shoulder. "After the night I've had, that's exactly what you deserve."

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**...Best Served By Two**

Slipping inside the spare bedroom where she'd changed clothes last night, Tonks let out the laugh she'd been holding in since she left Remus in the hall. For once in her life, she wasn't the least bit embarrassed that he'd seen her do something as undignified as nearly run into a stuffed elf head. It would do him the world of good to realize the effect he had on her equilibrium. It had certainly done her an _amazing_ amount of good to find out that, just once in a blue moon, reality really did exceed even the most vivid of hopes and imaginations…

Though her legs still felt wobbly now, she hurriedly peeled off the black top, which any self-respecting Cleaning Charm would give up on immediately, and put the pink bra abandoned from last night back on. The wall mirror told her with great relish that she looked like something the tide had dragged in, and blonde hair made her look pale, pasty, peaky and at least ten other words beginning with P. She grinned at it in agreement, carefully checked to be sure her eyes had gone back to normal, and scrutinised her bra, which was simple but comfortable. No more under-wiring nightmares for her. Though maybe that was the wonder of a Witches Wonder Bra -- wonder how long it would take him to get it off her.

Another giggle burst out; she pressed her fingers to her mouth, while her other hand clutched her stomach, which felt as though several trapped fairies were fluttering frantically about inside. To think, after all that agonising about whether Remus would ever ask her out and if he'd ever admit to feeling just a fraction of what she did, that he'd confessed to wanting dozens of dates with her. And, they were going to spend the whole evening together again and, possibly even finish what they'd started so ardently on the beach, and then continued so feverishly in the alley... Sweet Merlin, how was she going to get through the day, thinking about it all?

Tonks caught hold of herself firmly; that was all for later. There was work to get through, and poor Harry to think of, and that slight sense of unease she had about this hearing, which could probably be put solely down to the fact that she thought Fudge was about as trustworthy as the Weasley twins on Valentine's Day.

Just as she'd changed out of her jeans into her wrinkled trousers and done up the last button of the white shirt she'd worked in the previous day, there was a tentative knock on the door. She'd purposefully left the door open a crack. The gap widened with a squeal of hinges, and Molly's familiar short, plump figure -- clad in a purple quilted dressing gown -- momentarily paused in the doorway at the sight of her.

"Wotcher." Tonks started to smile, but it handily turned into a wide yawn. Merlin, she remembered suddenly how tired she was, and the places where sand had somehow lodged were really letting her know about it as she bent to retrieve her lilac socks and Doc Martens. She bit back a grin as she wondered if Remus had the same problem – would it be worse in either boxers or briefs? - and cleared her throat to say: "Do you need a hand with breakfast?"

"I was just trying to decide what to make." Molly, having quickly recovered from her apparent surprise, sounded distracted. "I do hope Harry can eat something to keep his strength up..." She looked at Tonks as though seeing her for the first time. "I didn't expect to see you back, dear." Smiling, but looking her surreptitiously up and down with an appraising eye, she added, "I thought you'd be resting after your, um, duty."

"I'm already behind on sleep, so what's a few less hours?" Tonks took her time pulling on her socks, and hiding a grin at the traces of sand between her toes. "I wanted to see Harry before the hearing."

Molly smiled. "That's very sweet of you, dear. Though I thought you might have other things to think about this morning." She retrieved Tonks' crumpled Auror robes from her bag and cast a charm that instantly revived them. "The hearing's really nothing to worry about, as Dumbledore will be there to keep an eye on the Wizengamot, but it's such a shame poor Harry doesn't know that. And of course Sirius will be in one of his moods since he can't take him." She was watching Tonks intently, with bright, interested eyes. "Where's Remus?" she asked, casually.

"Kitchen." Tonks crammed her feet into her shoes.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did you enjoy the duty with him, dear? Only you certainly look like a girl who's spent all ni—"

"Suffice it to say, I only go blonde when I'm cheesed off and ruder words beginning with P." Tonks interrupted while tugging at her shoelace. "It was a duty. Just like any other old duty, you know."

Molly frowned slightly. "Yes, but Emmeline said this place you were going to was lovely. What happened when you were off duty and alone in a romantic cottage with a man I know you've always wanted to get to know better?"

"Emmeline had never set foot in the place," Tonks said, yanking her other shoelace into a double-knot, and compressing her lips into a straight line of disapproval." Apparently, she's gullible enough to believe anything Dung told her about it. I was suspicious from the start, but even I never imagined how bad it was. She's going to be embarrassed for weeks when I tell her she recommended a stinking cow shed to me as the perfect place to get away from it all."

Molly's round, pink face looked a whole shade paler. "…Cow shed?"

"You've never seen anything like it." Tonks nodded. "Not even you could have done spells to get rid of the stink."

"Oh my goodness." Molly leaned rather heavily against the oak dressing table. "That must have been an awful let down."

"It would have been, except I had bigger problems by then to worry about. Merlin, you think you know someone really well, and then you suddenly realise you don't know them at all." Tonks shook her head in disbelief and looked at her watch. "Do we need to go down soon so you can get breakfast started?"

"What problems?" Molly hadn't seemed to hear her.

"Oh…" Tonks made a show of tripping over the edge of a rug as she approached Molly. "Let's not talk about it, eh? It'll just put me in a really foul mood." She took her robes from the older witch and thrust her arms into the sleeves. "I need to sort it out with Emmeline, anyway."

Molly's brow was wrinkled. "Where is Remus?" she asked, again.

"I thought we weren't going to talk about it."

"Well, dear, it's not fair to blame him because the place was a disappointment, is it?"

"That's not the point," Tonks said, flatly, pulling the blonde curls out from the neck of her robes.

Molly pursed her lips. "Now you can't tell me you didn't think Remus looked extremely nice. I saw your face, young lady. He'd put on his best shirt for you, and those brown trousers were—"

Yes, that shirt and trousers, which she'd thought were rather tasty, and then he'd stood up in them when he was drenched and, _cor blimey,_ was the only vaguely coherent thought in her head... A dreamy warmth spread through Tonks, and she was only brought back to reality when she belatedly registered the rather absent look on Molly's own face. Oh Merlin, how could she stifle this laugh?_ Molly_ had taken careful note of the fit of Remus' trousers? He'd just die if he knew.

"Well, those colours seem to suit Remus," Molly said, seeming to give herself a little shake. "He's got such kind eyes..."

_His eyes, indeed_... Tonks dropped hers to the floor, and thought she'd never worked harder in Concealment and Disguise than at this very moment in time.

"He'd definitely made an effort for you," Molly went on briskly, "and he was so concerned to put you at your ease in the kitchen. Sirius and I might as well not have been there the way he looked at you. Surely a dirty cottage doesn't count for much against that?"

If only Molly knew how Remus had been looking at her as his body pressed hers into the sand, and they were a tangle of limbs and lips as the tide lapped against them... And, yes, indeed, she certainly hadn't been overly concerned about smelly cow sheds when she'd watched his eyes follow the trickle of sweat down her cleavage, and when they'd clasped hands sat together on the suitcase. Indeed, it could have been the sweetest smelling garden for all she'd noticed.

Merlin, she was thinking in a lot of indeeds. Was this what being in love did to you? Especially now when it had been expressed _in deeds…_

"No doubt Remus would agree with you," she said, gravely.

Molly looked distinctly taken aback, and Tonks was absurdly pleased to see this reaction on Remus' behalf. "So what's—?"

"The problem?" Tonks slowly fastened the closures of her robes, to make sure her flush had faded, and that she had her expression just as she wanted it. "The _problem_ is a whole new twist on the Metamorphmagus problem." She shook her head. "Never in a million years could I have seen this coming."

"But Remus would never ask you to be anyone but yourself, dear."

"I know that only too well, thanks."

"Whatever can you mean?" Molly took a couple of deep breaths through her apparently puzzled nose, which Tonks found distinctly satisfying -- if not a little intimidating, as this was after all the woman who could find her way to the bottom of Fred and George's mischief.

"Emmeline set me up," Tonks said, quietly, "and Kingsley did the same to Remus. They didn't know what the place was like, but everything else was a set up to get us together. Like juvenile passwords and loads of booze available to get us in a romantic mood. Which would have been fine, except for Remus letting on just how much he_ does_ want me to be exactly myself."

"But that's all well and good!"

"No. You don't understand." Tonks went back to the bed and, sinking onto the protesting mattress again, leant forward with her elbows on her knees and lowered her voice. "If I tell you, you'll promise not to breathe a word of this, won't you?"

Looking mystified, Molly briskly swept across the room and sat beside Tonks, patting her knee. "I promise, dear, but I'm sure, whatever it is, you've got to be making too much of it." She was frowning heavily; strawberry-blonde eyebrows drawn together. "Are you sure you haven't simply misunderstood what he said? You're making this sound a bit..._bizarre_."

Tonks shrugged. "Yes, it was totally bizarre when he started going on about the Black family tree, and whether those small families were because they actually chose not to have many children, or because they're infertile, and whether I knew of any other Metamorphmagi in the family, and the chances of passing the ability on down the line."

Molly blinked.

"It was rather off-putting to say the least. Not to say embarrassing. I mean, he almost seemed to have been expecting me to rattle off percentages."

Another blink.

"And then he couldn't hide the disappointment when all I knew was that it was very rare, and as far as I was aware I was the first in the family." She smiled grimly. "I did mention that next time I search Malfoy Manor, I'll be sure to ask Narcissa if she's ever had fertility tests."

Molly opened her mouth but no sound came out.

"He's studied Metamorphmagi for a long time, you see," Tonks went on. "I think he does genuinely care about me, but there's no doubt what he was most thrilled about was having his own personal Metamorphmagus to examine all to himself. Unfortunately, I don't think I quite came up to expectations for him."

Molly seemed to have found a voice again, even though it was much higher and more pinched-sounding than the one she normally used on a day-to-day basis. "Th-that doesn't sound so bad," she started, "I m-mean, he does study magical creatures, the children always said... Perhaps once he'd got over his curiosity -- I really can't imagine Remus offending you, dear. He's such a gentleman, and I'm sure he'd say the loveliest things to a girl--"

"Oh, yeah, _'Did you know that werewolves mate for life?'_ was really, really lovely." Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "I just couldn't believe my ears, Molly."

"Well, he does have a very dry sense of humour, and perhaps it was just his way of revealing serious intentions towards you." She broke off hastily as she saw Tonks' expression. "No. It's too much, too soon. I can see why you might find that...a lot to take in."

"Yes." Tonks bit her lip. "Of course, he tried to pretend then that it had all been a terrific joke, but you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife, and the real worry is that I've no idea how I'm going to do any duties with him in the future. I'm going to hex Emmeline to next week when I see her."

"Oh my." Molly's eyes had that slightly glazed quality again. "Yes. Well, dear, I still say you shouldn't over-react."

"Over-react?" Tonks looked at him in amazement. "I'm thinking of owling the silly cow right now and telling her what I think of her meddling."

"Now don't be hasty." Molly sounded rather hasty herself. "You're a bit upset, which is fair enough, but we don't want to make things worse, do we? I'm sure Emmeline was acting from the best of intentions, as was Kingsley."

_"'Best of intentions?'_ Remus and I can't look each other in the face anymore, and we've spoken all of two words since we got back here. That's a great state of affairs for a couple of Order members."

"You and Remus are such great friends, I'm sure this is some kind of simple misunderstanding. Though I do have to admit I'd never have imagined in a million years that he would ever have these, um, ideas..." Molly patted Tonks' knee again, though this time she seemed to be reassuring herself. "But it's hardly the end of the world, is it, dear?"

Tonks got up off the bed and looked at her coldly. "No. That arrived when he started on about the Innuendo Night Club, and I thought he was asking me out – until I realised he was talking about having hen nights and wedding receptions there. He doesn't want to date me, Molly, he wants to marry me! Preferably right this minute! So we can immediately start having several litters of magical marvels which he called multicoloured werepups, if you've ever heard anything so crazy in all your life. Where's Ron's owl? I've had it up to here with friends sticking their long noses in where they're not wanted, and when I had everything perfectly under control anyway."

"Owl? Now wait just a minute—" Molly stopped dead, staring, as Tonks, unable to contain herself any longer, burst out laughing. She slumped back on the bed in disbelief while Tonks stood still and released everything she'd been holding back since the mutually obsessed moment with Remus' trousers. "Why you...you're as bad as the twins!"

"Yes." Tonks nodded, still laughing. "Though I reckon they get it from you."

"It was all from the best of intentions!" Molly clutched at the heavy bedspread indignantly. "I can't think of anyone else I'd like to help get together more than Remus and you, dear."

"And I can't think what got it into your head that we wouldn't get together on our own."

"It was obvious how much you liked him, and I thought you might ask him out on a date, but you were taking so long! And Remus has such an easy way with people, yet he seems so uncertain when it comes to you. It was getting ridiculous! Something had to be done." Molly pursed her lips. "Does Remus know you're passing him off as a man obsessed with the most peculiar things?"

"It was Remus' idea, actually. Which I probably should be worried about." Tonks smiled at the memory of Remus planning this with her in the alleyway. She smiled even more at the thought of what else they'd done, but Molly's mind had already leapt ahead to other things.

"How did you know it was me then? Did Emmeline give it away? Or Kingsley? As for Dung, I'll turn that tobacco into carbolic soap while he's smoking it the next time I see him. That filthy little..._scumbag_...swore to me it was everything a romantic cottage for two should be. I suppose he left something in it, didn't he?"

Tonks was shaking her head. "Emmeline was the consummate actress. Remus says Kingsley was great, too. Though I was surprised by the idea of them as a couple—"

"It was supposed to be him and Hestia," said Molly, gloomily. "Only you know how she can't ever stop giggling, no matter what I threatened her with, so Emmeline had to substitute at the last minute."

"—but it was actually you who gave it away."

"Me?" Molly sat up, eyebrows raised high in indignation. "You're joking! I never put a foot wrong. I lavished you with praise for arranging the duty and you completely fell for it!"

Tonks raised her own eyebrows even higher. When you could morph them to move, ordinary mortals didn't stand a chance. "Except you kept harping on about your soft spot for _unlikely couples_, and then apparently finding out you were pregnant with Ron after a romantic holiday, which just happened to be incredibly near where we were going, was over-egging the plum pudding slightly."

Molly blushed. "I did go on a tiny bit, I suppose." Her hands flew to her face. "You must think I'm desperate to get you married off and settled down with a family, no wonder you made all those jokes. I don't, dear, I just wanted to help you both... Oh, I should have known never to listen to that Sirius Black about anything, it's positively mortifying!"

Tonks grinned. "It will be when I go on for months and months about you wanting me to have Remus' multicoloured werepups. Or, even, more amazing, you and Sirius in cahoots over us!" She laughed at Molly's face. "Don't take it too hard. I'm so tired it did take me a fair old while to get it."

"It's not much consolation, knowing you were both so tired, and then had to be in that horrible place." Molly raised her head and regarded her somewhat blearily. "I really did do it out of good intentions, dear. You both deserve happiness, and you look so happy when you're together."

"I know you did." Tonks smiled, while thinking that though Molly fully believed that – and so did she – she also knew Molly had to mother everyone -- and that the recent trouble with Percy had only made her channel even more energy into taking care of people. Or was she just trying to control something and someone to make herself feel better?

It was typical of Sirius not to think of possible consequences to his actions, but she was quite surprised at Molly for not doing so…

"I thought you'd like the password." A gleam had come into Molly's eyes that actually reminded Tonks of the twins.

_"You saucy little minx?'_ Yes, thanks for that, really subtle."

Molly coloured. "Men sometimes like to have, um, pet names for the lady they're courting. I just thought that—" She glanced away briefly, then turned back. "So did it?"

"Did it what?"

"Did it work out for you both? Did you spend time together after your duty? Did you take advantage of romantic Thurlestone?" The eyebrows came together again, in a straight line of query. "What _is _Remus doing downstairs exactly?"

"I really wouldn't know." Tonks looked at her innocently.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"That sounds like someone in the hall." Tonks stood up, just as Arthur gingerly peered round the door, wearing what appeared to be pinstriped trousers and an old bomber jacket.

"I wondered where you'd got to, Molly. Morning, Tonks," he said, smiling, but without his usual cheerfulness. "Harry'll be up soon. Breakfast?"

As they all got up to go downstairs, Molly looked back at Tonks. "You can be as coy and secretive as you like, dear, but as soon as you walk through that kitchen door I'll know instantly. Remus isn't as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks, especially when his eyes are always watching you, and you light up every time you look at him. So you might as well tell me now how it really turned out last night."

"Molly," said Arthur with exasperation, "I thought we'd decided you weren't going to meddle." But then he cast a curious glance back at Tonks. "Hopefully Molly's efforts didn't backfire?"

"There's nothing to tell because nothing happened." Tonks glanced upwards at the floor of rooms they'd just descended from, while trying to contain a distinctly smug feeling at the news that Remus' eyes were always watching her. "I can definitely hear Harry moving about."

"You're really going to drag this out, aren't you?" Molly asked, as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Keep me on pins and needles."

"Oh, yes." Tonks spoke loudly, so that Remus would know she was on her way in. "After the night I've had, it's exactly what you deserve."

They'd planned that she would enter the room, Remus would give her a disinterested stare, and she'd give him a filthy look in return. It had sounded simple in the alleyway but, with Molly's words still reverberating in her ears, Tonks felt the jolt in the pit of her stomach as soon as his eyes met hers. He looked away towards Arthur, raising his cup to his mouth but, for a split second, those eyes had seemed to glint with mischief at her and, to her horror, she immediately felt the tell-tale prickle behind her own in return. The force of concentration it took to stop them did at least pull her face into an impressive scowl, and she coiled her hair into tighter flaxen curls for good measure while she was at it.

"Wotcher," she mumbled, aiming for sullenness, as Sirius sat up smartly from his slumped position as they came in. She felt a momentary twinge of pity and affection at his avid, hopeful stare, but also got a large degree of satisfaction from returning his look blankly, and watching his expression slowly change into one of uncertainty as he looked her up and down.

Molly's reaction was equally gratifying. Her eyes were fixed on Remus, who was pouring tea from the pot with an expression that was reminiscent of Snape, with the smell of an incorrectly mixed potion offending his nose. She darted a final, disbelieving look in Tonks' direction, as Arthur took her arm and guided her firmly towards the table, pulling out the chair on Remus' left for her, and taking the one between her and Sirius for himself.

This left Tonks debating whether to sit by Sirius – though surely Harry would want to - or to sit next to Remus, which hadn't been in the original plan. Oh why not, she thought, suddenly thinking it would shake them all up a bit more, and it would be fun to improvise. Besides, Harry would be down any minute, and all this frivolity would have to stop. They'd debated about the timing of doing this now, anyway, until Remus had said that at least it would give Sirius, in particular, something else to think about.

She sat down next to him; with her arms folded over her chest, and stared calmly back at three pairs of interested eyes. Remus didn't even look up from buttering some toast.

"They always sit together. One of the first things I noticed," Molly said, rather gleefully, to Sirius.

"They do, don't they?" Sirius grinned. "Bit of a giveaway, that."

"They finish each other's sentences sometimes, too." Molly had those eyebrows raised again, this time in an approving fashion.

"That's right," said Tonks, coldly. "Sometimes I like to tell meddling people to—"

"Lime marmalade?" Remus asked Arthur, offering the pot.

"Thank you, Remus." Arthur gave him an apologetic glance and leant forward in his chair to include Tonks in it as well. "Some of us weren't involved in all this, you know."

"We do." Remus nodded as he shifted slightly in his seat and his leg gently brushed against hers as though by accident. "It's just unfortunate that people have to interfere as it sometimes backfires." He looked at Sirius and Molly with an expression which was like that of a teacher looking sorrowfully at two pupils who had let him down badly with their homework, and said, mildly but firmly: "Tonks and I would appreciate it if the subject could be dropped for a little while, wouldn't we?"

"…Yeah." Tonks was fractionally late with the response as his foot first touched and then rubbed the inside of her ankle in a distinctly friendly manner. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to kiss him as hard as she could. "Yeah. We would."

"But—" Molly started.

"No, Molly." Remus shook his head at her reprovingly. Tonks was surprised he didn't wag a finger as well. It really was amazing how well the man could multi-task.

"When you going to tell us then?" Sirius looked from Tonks to Remus. "Though I already know the answer, you smug sod."

"It does seem somewhat strange that you keep on asking then." Remus smiled pleasantly, and held Sirius' gaze unflinchingly, while Tonks was forced to think fiercely of her top three most embarrassing moments in order to keep from laughing out loud.

Sirius eyes narrowed, and he looked set to burst out with something else, when the bottom stair gave a tell-tale creak to say that someone had trodden on it.

"This isn't finished yet, Moony," Sirius hissed, at the same time as Molly, flushed and looking only at Tonks, said: "I'm good at finding out secrets when I want to, young lady, you ask any of my children," while rather hesitant footsteps sounded outside the door.

Everyone instantly fell silent as Harry appeared in the doorway wearing tidy, freshly laundered jeans and a T-shirt.

"Breakfast," Molly said briskly, pulling her wand out and quickly heading for the fire.

Tonks saw at once how pale Harry was and could cheerfully have hexed Fudge on the spot. Remus seemed to stiffen next to her and she knew he felt the same. She wanted desperately to say something, as everyone was silently staring at the poor boy, and all she could think of was how she'd suffered quite enough of that herself recently, but her opening words were almost drowned out by a massive yawn. "M-m-morning, Harry. Sleep all right?"

She could have kicked herself immediately. _Of course, he hadn't_. Remus' knee gently nudged hers sympathetically.

"Yeah," Harry replied, not quite looking at any of them.

"I've b-b-been up all night," Tonks said, thinking she ought to explain, while another uncontrollable yawn burst forth as the heat from the fire which Molly had stoked up spread up her back. He'd taken a step towards her, so she added: "Come and sit down…"

She started to pull out a chair for him, just as Remus rubbed the back of her calf with his foot. The involuntary shiver to that gesture immediately shot upwards in all directions, including north-east to the hand on the chair, and left it incapable of doing anything as simple as gripping an item of furniture. The chair collided with the one next to it, which promptly fell over with a loud crash.

His knee gave hers a couple of congratulatory bumps. If knees could laugh, his was clearly cracking up. She really was going to have to wipe the smirk off his face later, and tell him about Molly's apparent fascination with the cut of his trousers.

Molly herself was midway through an extensive menu choice for Harry, and as everyone was still staring transfixed at him, Tonks took the opportunity to glare at Remus. He looked at her in perfect innocence, while his foot returned to rubbing slowly up and down her leg.

"Pack it in, _Lupin,"_ she muttered out of the side of her mouth. "Unless you want me to owl Scrimgeour and call in sick so I can teach you the error of your ways."

His eyes darkened in response, but then glanced past her to Harry, who was now looking directly at them.

Remus cleared his throat and asked in a matter-of-fact tone: "What were you saying about Scrimgeour?"

"Oh..."_ Git! She was in love with an absolute git_! "Yeah...well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions..."

Harry's momentary interest vanished as Molly dropped a plate of toast on the table in front of him, and decided to tuck in his T-shirt label as he reluctantly picked up a slice. Arthur was talking in a low voice to Sirius, who was watching Harry's every move and scowling silently. Nobody was taking any notice of them whatsoever, and Tonks really didn't want to watch poor Harry being force fed and harassed by adults not knowing what to do for the best, so she leaned towards Remus and lowered her voice to a level only he could hear.

"Yeah, Scrimgeour asked Kingsley if he knew of any saucy little minxes at the Ministry." Her eyes met Remus' blue ones calmly, which glinted at her as her own foot now made its leisurely way down his calf, "and he keeps asking me – and I can't tell you how embarrassing it is - if I can investigate whether older men … _do it longer."_

"Mmn." Remus' lips curled almost imperceptibly.

"Of course, I've only heard rumours." Tonks sighed lightly and glanced around to check they were still unobserved.

"Mmn." Remus was checking as well. He let his hand touch hers gently, under the table.

"And I am due on another night duty starting after midnight tonight." She forced her tired brain to think logically. "Which is really tomorrow, I suppose. Which would mean that any plans I had to investigate that confidential matter tonight would have to be—"

"Ended at a reasonable hour?"

Tonks nodded. "So I can get some sleep."

Remus frowned slightly while he watched Harry still forcing toast down, and Molly attempting to iron his T-shirt while he was wearing it. "I'm sure a woman of your ingenuity could get out of it if you really wanted to. We'll be late finishing here anyway as we'll hopefully be celebrating with Harry over dinner. It seems such a shame to have to, um, curtail anything after what we've put up with."

_Now that was what she'd hoped he'd say…_

She sighed loudly enough to be noticeable and raised her voice. "...and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t-t-too tired." She polished it off with another wide yawn, and looked pointedly at Molly, who flushed.

It had the desired effect. "I'll cover for you," said Arthur promptly, smiling at her, his eyes twinkling. He began to talk about a report he had to finish at the Ministry, thereby drawing everyone's attention back to himself.

Tonks felt a swell of gratitude towards him as she propped her hand under her chin and gave Remus her best flirtatious glance from under her lashes.

"So we're all set then?" she breathed, wondering suddenly if all this was real as she felt his warm fingers interlaced with hers. She shifted in her chair, gripping his hand for reassurance, and several grains of sand obligingly made their presence felt.

_It was real. It had happened. So much to both of them in a few hours. And so much was yet to happen._

Remus was looking at her in a way which made her breath catch in her throat, and forced her to concentrate very hard on not allowing the glow she felt inside to show anywhere else. He leaned very close to her ear and whispered softly; in a low caressing murmur, which she was suddenly fiercely determined no one but her would ever hear from now on.

The words themselves took a moment to register.

"Would I be right in thinking I'm going to be up all night again?"

**The End.**

**Many thanks from both of us for your response to this joint endeavour. It was a lot of fun to write, and a lot of fun to share, and we hope you've had a lot of fun staying up all night with Remus and Tonks. Reviewers get to help Remus get rid of all that pesky sand, and a personal and confidential answer to that age-old question: boxers, or briefs?**


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